
Class O Jb ^ 3. 

Book IES-8^- 

Copyright N^ 



COPUUGttT U£I'OStr. 



THE COUNTRY HOME 







A TRELLIS OF 

WOOD 

STRONG AND SIMPLE 



The Country Home Library 



THE COUNTRY HOME 



BY 



E. P. POWELL 




NEW YORK 

McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO 

M C M I V 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Gopres Receivea 

NOV 28 I9U4 

Copyngni cniry 

cuss Oi. XXC. Nui 
COPY ^ 



£' 



Copyright, 1904, hy 

McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO. 

Published November, 1904 N 



THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO ALL THOSE WHO, WEyVRY OF THE CON- 
VENTIONALISM AND CONFINEMENT OF CITY LIFE, BELIEVE THAT THE 
BIRDS SING AND THE BROOKS LAUGH AND THE TREES GROW AND THE 
FLOWERS BLOSSOM FOR THEM ; AND THAT IT IS ON THE HILLSIDES AND 
ALONG THE VALLEY SLOPES THAT THEY MAY FIND MOST OF HAPPINESS, 
CONTENT, AND PROSPERITi'. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER P-**^^ 

I. Introduction 3 

II. Selecting a Home 13 

III. Growing the House 36 

IV. Water Supply — Wells, Cisterns, Etc. ... 60 
V. Lawns and Shrubberies 81 

VI. Windbreaks and Hedges 106 

VII. Out in the Orchard 126 

VIII. Strawberries and Their Kin 160 

IX. Tons of Grapes 191 

X. Among the Flowers 205 

XI. Come and See My Cabbages 233 

XII. Our Rivals — The Insects 258 

XIII. Securing Our Allies 283 

XIV. Cultivating the Beautiful 312 

XV. Happy Animals 327 

XVI. Nooks and Corners 350 

XVII. Conclusion 368 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

A Trellis of Wood, Strong and Simple . . Front isj)iece 

FACING 

PAliE 

Glimpses of Cow Barns, with Holsteins Stand- 
ing IN THE Brook 10 

The House in Some Cases will be a Real Acquisi- 
tion 2^2 

A Place Combining the Useful and the Prof- 
itable 26 

What You Want — Elbow Room for Your Tastes 36 
It Stands on a Knoll Well Away from Others 58 
The Most Beautiful Thing in the Country is a 

Brook 78 

Beautiful Outlooks in the Valley 82 

Nothing is More Important than Planting Wind- 
breaks 100 

A Hedge is Sometimes Ornamental from a Modi- 
cum OF Neglect 124 

Out IN THE Orchard . 132 

A Shrubbery and a Flower Garden 204 

Over Your Porch Run Crimson Rambler Roses 220 
Corn, This Glory OF New World Vegetation . . 234 
The Garden is the Out-of-Door Family Rooai 2.'>0 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



FACING 
PAtlE 



Our Noblest Servant and Companion 284 

A Home AMONG Trees AND Flowers 310 

Happy Animals 328 

Pigs are among the Most Sagacious of Creatures 344 

Your House should be a Part of the Property 366 
No Life is Broader, Freer, or Fuller than Life 

ON THE Land 380 

The Field Road 382 



THE COUNTRY HOME 



CHAPTER ONE 
INTRODUCTION 



1 HiRTY years ago the great economic problem 
of the world was how to check the drift of popu- 
lation into congested city life. The English and 
German governments employed commissions to 
investigate the problem, while in this country the 
labor department of the government was working, 
both directly and indirectly, on the same prob- 
lem. It has happened that while experts investi- 
gated, Providence gave the solution. Electricity 
as a motive power began to displace steam early in 
the nineties. Rural telephone service, which had 
been refused to the country by the Bell companies, 
as an unprofitable investment, began to spread 
like spider webs all over the valleys and hillsides — 
absolutely abolishing farm isolation. Free rural 
mail delivery followed, extending to the outlanders 
privileges which had been exclusively urban. Trol- 
ley roads, a little later, began to creep around the 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



valleys, and feel their way like fingers of fate up 
between the hills. The postal authorities promise 
now that within four years they will have covered 
every square mile of the United States with free 
mail service; while well within that time it seems 
probable that no reputable farmhouse will be with- 
out its telephone. This is an evolution that consti- 
tutes a revolution. Urbanism spreads out into 
suburbanism, and suburbanism widens to cover the 
larger part of the country, because the advantages 
of contiguity are no longer sufficient to overcome 
the advantages of individual living. The close con- 
tact, the smoky air, the pinched freedom of action, 
the deprivation of orchard and garden, no longer 
seem tolerable; because they are unnecessary. 

The mischief of packing population began with 
the introduction of steam power. The steam age 
began about 1830. Many of those now living re- 
member its inauguration; some will see its close. 
In 1891 Professor Orton, our most eminent author- 
ity on coal and kindred subjects, said in a brilliant 
monograph: "The age of coal is nearly ended, and 
with it the reign of steam." All known deposits of 
anthracite coal in the United States, the Pittsburg 
seam alone excepted, he aflSrmed, would be ex- 

[4] 



ONE] INTRODUCTION 



hausted by 1930, and that we must react to a more 
quiet mode of life, and a larger use of wood as a fuel. 
Electricity was already working out the solution of 
the problem of congested population — as well as 
the isolation of scattered population. 

It is not true that the people deserted the country 
for town life because of any lack of appreciation of 
country comforts, and of the desirability of free and 
independent methods of living. Farm machinery 
had lessened the number of men required to do 
farm work; while manufacturing machinery gave 
employment to larger numbers in the city. In 1790 
the percentage of the population in the cities of the 
United States was only three and one-third per cent ; 
in 1890 it was about thirty per cent; and in 1900 
fully one-third of all our population was resident in 
the cities which contained more than eight thousand 
people. In New York State seventy per cent of the 
population was urban; in other States it graded 
from seventy-six per cent down to fifteen per cent. 
Conditions which thus drew the people into masses 
reached their maximum influence about 1894. 
From that date the reaction has been steady. Those 
industries which were taken away from homes by 
steam power are returning, to be done by electric 

[5] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

power. Articles of clothing, as well as cheese and 
butter, are once more becoming matters of domestic 
and cottage industry. The great factory assem- 
blages of population are slowly giving way to small 
manufacturing and agricultural groups. In France 
electric motors furnish power to domestic weavers 
for about fifteen dollars a year for each loom. In 
the city of Lyons alone, five hundred looms for 
weaving have recently been installed in private 
homes. The results are more regular employment 
and an increase of the earnings of the weaver, while 
he becomes at the same time owner of a country 
home and a garden — if not a large acreage, with- 
out rent. Power is secured frbm stock companies, 
which supply electricity to a given area — town or 
otherwise — and distribute this power to houses, at 
a maximum charge of about one dollar and fifty 
cents per month. 

This is the future of country life. The revolu- 
tion that is suggested must be at once reckoned 
with by social economists. Industrialism, and not 
mere sentiment, is working away from the cities 
country ward. We have, approximately, a solution 
of the factory problem — the overcrowding of work- 
men, and especially women and children, in huge 

[C] 



ONE] INTRODUCTION 

buildings. By the new conditions the physica. 
strain upon the workman is reduced, and with him 
can more freely cooperate the women and children, 
and the old men of the family. The sanitary con- 
ditions in large factories, however improved, will 
ever remain dangerous to the finest development of 
physical life, while the moral atmosphere will lack 
individualism. But the domestic manufacturer 
need not be confronted with unsanitary conditions, 
while working out his individual tastes and living 
his own ideal. These new industrial conditions 
point toward cooperative conditions of industry. 
They indicate that the growth of suburbanism is 
not to be strictly and solely a development of agri- 
culture. During the steam age there has been a 
sharp alienation and differentiation of manufactur- 
ing from agriculture; during the electric age we may 
look for a much closer association. This will be 
a reminder of life when our mothers spun and wove 
the clothes of the household, and our fathers not 
only held the plow, but made their own shoes and 
built their own houses. There will, however, be a 
differentiation of industries even when the factory 
is abolished. The problem with which social econ- 
omists have been wrestling, and which has taxed 

[7] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



the energies of civilization, is evidently within the 
grip of industrial laws. Cities are still growing, 
but they are growing at a greatly reduced ratio. 
Summing up all statistics for comparison, we find 
that, of the increase of population between 1880 and 
1890, considerably over sixty per cent went into our 
larger cities ; but between 1890 and 1900 the pro- 
portion that was added to urban life was reduced 
to a little over thirty per cent. Since 1900 the ratio 
has been reduced still farther. Public sentiment 
is becoming enlightened, and the taste for country 
life is rising almost to enthusiasm. 

Meanwhile another remarkable evolution is tak- 
ing place in the reorganization of the school system. 
The new town is becoming a school town ; that is, 
the school is rapidly becoming the center of town 
life. It is no longer the tavern or the saloon or the 
village store that controls public sentiment*; but 
prospectively the school is to be the center of the 
town unit. The rural schoolmaster is departed, 
and with him the roadside district school. With 
the graded school comes in a remarkable advance 
in the grade of teachers; and their influence is felt 
through the town, as well as within the school. 
The school building is open, not only for the train- 

[8] 



ONE] INTRODUCTION 



ing of children, but for night classes, for lectures, 
and for various musical and art associations. This 
consolidation of the town about the school brings 
the homes and the school into closer relation, and 
harmonizes all the intellectual and moral life of 
the community. 

Our first care must be the creation of real country 
homes. Here we shall have the primal art of nature 
to assist us, with its latest interpretations by science. 
It is a new thought of high art that is growing among 
the people, that instead of buying pictures to hang 
on our walls, we may better create them on the sod, 
with living plants and running brooks. Literature 
also is turning its face countryward. Nature books 
rival novels in popular use. They express the new 
stage of social evolution, and confirm the desire to 
escape from the limitations of city conditions. In 
other words, we are going back, and to what God 
wrought — intending to cowork with him. 

The object of this book is to meet the growing 
tide as it moves from congested cities into the free- 
dom of home-making in the country; and we shall 
aim to add, as far as possible, influences to broaden 
life in its new environment. Having gone over the 
road myself, with the advantage of having been 

[9] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



country born and country bred, I shall perhaps be 
able to help others to avoid mistakes, and take 
quicker advantage of opportunity. Whoever seeks 
the country should seek it for a definite purpose, 
and understand that he must educate himself to 
make that purpose workable. There is study 
ahead, as well as work. You will find no industry 
so complex as agriculture — rightly pursued. Every 
science will have to be subsidized for help. There is, 
however, sufficient common purpose in going back 
to the land, to make the book I offer of practical 
use to a wide range of readers. I shall not theorize, 
but shall deal with facts; and while telling what 
may be done by the many, will only describe that 
which has already been accomplished by the few. 
Fifty years ago suburbanism meant the building 
of villas and mansions in the outskirts of cities — 
as going into the country meant going to Newport 
and Saratoga. Democracy in country development 
is displacing aristocracy. Suburbanism means 
to-day a movement of the people all along the line, 
to adjust themselves to home-making, apart from, 
and generally remote from large nuclei of popula- 
tion. Books, published fifty years ago on country 
life, sketched objectless buildings with city plots 

[10] 



one] introduction 



about them. For poor people they designed arbor- 
like buildings with fancy turrets and pinnacles ; and 
for the wealthy they offered Fifth Avenue palaces, 
to be constructed along boulevards. This book has 
nothing to do with boulevards or villas. I aim sim- 
ply to go out with the people who have a heart sick- 
ness after life in the green fields, and to help them 
as I can in adjusting conditions to desires, or desires 
to conditions. What we want in the country is 
men and women who intend to live as common- 
sense folk; will lift the social level with simple broth- 
erhood, high aspirations, and a humanity filled with 
Godliness — unaffected, pure in heart, and demo- 
cratic. 

This book will not concern itself specifically with 
cooperative colonies. These are hopeful, and 
those in charge of the Salvation Army are promising 
to be successful. My appeal must be to individual- 
ism and to individuals; to men and women who 
have had their eyes opened to the folly of that sort 
of life, which characterizes the bulk of our city 
population — a population where cooperation has 
dropped into deadly competition, and where money 
has become absolute. A studious man, or woman, 
on a small farm, possessed of industry and intelli- 

[11] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



gence, needs very little capital, but can win a decent 
living out of the soil. We must dread most of all 
the herding instinct, and any tendency of folk to 
become unable to live out of elbow contact with 
their neighbors. My purpose, in fine, is to help 
you to get acquainted with the trees, bugs, brooks, 
and birds; to develop a capacity for society with 
things, and to open that big book whose pages are 
pastures and forests and meadows, and farm-clad 
hillsides. We shall have very little to do, or to say, 
concerning the accumulation of wealth ; but much 
of the evolution of a simple life, where wealth is of 
little importance. In the country our first aim is 
not to amass, put to produce; not so much to spend, 
as to create. 



[12] 



CHAPTER TWO 
SELECTING A HOME 



W E face the most difficult problem at the outset, 
and I assure you this is the most difficult chapter 
for me to write. There are so many kind of folk, 
and so many sorts of places, that to put them to- 
gether with any nicety and fitness is a serious prob- 
lem. Nature hates uniformity and conformity. 
Even on the prairie it will be impossible to find two 
localities exactly alike. Among our hills and val- 
leys, how glorious is the variety of knolls, swales, 
nooks, slopes, and brook-visited meadows, where 
one may pronounce the word Home with delight ? 
What we add to these various places should be as 
unlike as they are themselves dissimilar. 

Suppose we take a trolley where it runs its fingers 
up into the little valleys, and look about among 
what used to be isolated farmhouses. Perhaps 
you would prefer to secure a ride with Rural Free 
Mail carrier. Route 16, and go over the hills where 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



the corn fields or the hop fields stand in rich allu- 
vial, and where orchards divide the clover fields, 
while there are still some bits of original forest in 
sight — maple, beech, and ash, nearly always flank- 
ed with butternut, chestnut, or walnut. Do you 
see anything anywhere that you would like to call 
your own ? I do not doubt but that in half an 
hour's ride you will have craved a dozen spots, and 
you will hardly know which one you like the best. 

The right sort of location ought to please on 
sight. You will recognize something of yourself 
when you see the place where you ought to estab- 
lish your home. The fact is, every one of us has 
already grown a good many tastes, opinions, emo- 
tions; and probably some whims, that we shall 
have to outgrow; and these must be gratified, in 
selecting a location, or they will make trouble here- 
after. 

Those who go to distant states, where climate and 
soil and trees are all novel, are homesick for old 
scenes and old conditions. Do not go into the coun- 
try unless you can find some place that recognizes 
you and will make itself familiar with you — that 
is, appear homelike. I have friends who feel that 
there is nothing like a broad, flat, level meadow for 

[U] 



TWO] SELECTING A HOME 



beauty and for comfort ; nothing like a prairie for a 
farm. For my part, I shall have to live on a hill- 
side, or be miserable. I do not wish to see all crea- 
tion; but really a good share of it, in miniature, 
suits my present selfhood. I want a nesting place 
where the hills clap their hands for joy and say, "Be- 
hold what God hath made for man!" In such a 
place one can do a great deal for God, and for him- 
self. Look about and see how man has fitted into 
these glacier-carved valleys. Count the orchards 
that have displaced the forests; and see how the 
creeks are turning mills, and how everything else 
is waiting on the master, man. 

There are so many delightful spots; and we are 
going to have a home where the squirrels chatter, 
and the birds sing, and the beechnuts fall like hail. 
Spell that word HOME in big capitals ; for it is only 
in the country that one can find the best home-mak- 
ing material. The brooks are tumbling out of the 
gorges and jumping down the declivities for us; 
bluebirds and robins are singing to welcome us; 
and the sun will spend its rays in creating for us 
golden harvests. There are so many beautiful 
homing spots unoccupied that one wishes he might 
live at once a dozen lives. I never drive along an 

[15] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



unfrequented road without seeing places that seem 
to beckon to me to come and make up ready mate- 
rial into a home. New England has hundreds of 
places that make me homesick to leave behind ; it is 
the same in lake-dotted Wisconsin, and in Michigan, 
with her walnuts and hickories, and rivers senti- 
nelled with oaks and pines. I selected Central 
New York and the Oriskany Valley as, of all, the 
homefullest spot in America. I shall not expect to 
win you all for immediate neighbors; but this is an 
age when we can whisper across a continent, and 
gird the world with our " good morning." 

All this time we are on our hunt for a home, a 
place where we may plant ourselves, and grow. 
The trolley whisks us by red cottages, half hid among 
pear trees; other brown ones that are perched on 
knolls, where the owners are husking corn — them- 
selves seated on huge pumpkins, while jokes fly as 
fast as the ears ; for husking-bees are not yet quite 
things of the past. Here and there we look up the 
most delightful side roads, where we get glimpses 
of cow barns, with Holsteins standing in the brooks, 
whisking flies from their backs; while others lie 
chewing cuds under the willows or the apple trees. 
Your mood changes with the scene ; yet everywhere 

[16] 



two] selecting a home 



you have one deepening conviction that man was 
never intended to live out of relation with nature. 
You think of rows of city houses as so many graded 
prisons. Those who live in them, even in artificial 
luxury, are deprived of the very best that God pre- 
pares for us to enjoy. 

At the close of the first day we will sit down for a 
council. We have seen and taken notes of a dozen 
most inviting places — spots that seem to need us, 
just as we need them. There are many things to 
consider ; our pockets as well as our eyes, our hands 
as well as our heads. It is folly to undertake a task 
that will be beyond our experience, and will so over- 
burden us with novel cares that we shall stop in de- 
spair, and crawl back into town life. You may be 
sure of one thing — that no work needs more tact, 
patience, resolution, and wit than that of the farm. 
A home in the country during the twentieth century 
will mean the liveliest sort of intellectual activity. 

In the first place, we do not want too large a place ; 
only what we can manage and completely master. 
Most of us will not be experienced land-tillers, and 
would not know what to do with a hundred acres, 
if given to us. Besides this, the old style of exten- 
sive farming is now steadily passing out in favor of 

[17] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



intensive farming. This means so cultivating a 
few acres as to get more out of them than the old- 
fashioned farmer used to get from ten times as 
many acres. Probably ten acres to twenty will be 
all that any one of us can comprehend and put to 
the best use. Five acres is the wiser limit for one 
who has spent most of his life in factories, or in 
mercantile work. There are some exceptions, where 
heredity speaks out strongly, and one has an in- 
stinct for land improvement. 

The second point to be careful about, is not to 
go too far from the city. It is not yet possible to 
restore the old-time independence of country life. 
Cities will pour out a big multitude into the free 
fields; yet cities will remain. They will be our 
markets for a century to come. We need the non- 
producing crowds to buy our potatoes and apples 
and garden stuff; so do not locate too far from the 
market. 

The third point to consider is the lay of the land. 
Generally avoid facing northwest winds. Locate 
where you will be shielded to the windward with 
either hills, or forests, or both. In some parts of 
the country it will be easy to take advantage of the 
protective influence of a natural wood belt ; yet you 

[18] 



two] selecting a home 



must become, if possible, the owner of such a belt 
of timber, or it will be cut down after you have 
planted yourself under its shelter. This is a matter 
of far more importance than appears on a pleasant 
summer day. Temperature often varies two or 
three degrees within an eighth of a mile. While it 
is true that you must master conditions wherever 
you go, you do not need to make the life-struggle 
more serious by an ill-chosen location. Perhaps 
you do not know, yet it is true that climate so varies 
that fruit-growing, which is favorably carried on 
under the shelter of a range of hills, is barely possi- 
ble in the valley, and impossible at the top of the 
range. The best position, as a rule, faces the south- 
east — with the colder winds broken by the hills 
above. Such an exposure also takes the morning 
sunshine, which is especially conducive to plant- 
health and growth. But it is not your orchard that 
you must alone provide for; you are going to grow 
children, and these will need the best possible nat- 
ural conditions for health and sweetness. Condi- 
tions that will grow a first-rate Northern Spy apple 
are none too good for growing red-cheeked and 
warm-hearted children. A southeast exposure 
gathers the heat all day, and is prepared to resist 

[19] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



cold at night. In the spring or the autumn you will 
escape frost, when your neighbors not far away will 
lose their tomatoes and corn. 

Avoid homing near a swamp — certainly a 
swamp that you cannot control and drain. We are 
getting more light on the mosquito question; yet it 
is not worth our while to select this kind of a battle- 
field. A hillside is far better, or a slope that looks 
over a valley, unless your culture is to be specifi- 
cally that of plants that need a mucky soil — such 
as celery. Our Eastern States afford a vastly 
greater variety of locations than the prairie states, 
where, however, the conditions are easily under- 
stood, and where there is compensation in depth 
of soil and easily cultivated crops. 

In this hunt of ours we shall find that there are 
hundreds of old country places for sale. These 
may be tolerably pleasant as they are — with 
the single exception that they express other folk. 
Most of them will, however, need, and are capable 
of, transformation. If I were to take my choice I 
should select one so far run down that little is left of 
the old ownership. Then I would begin to study, 
and to plan renovation — always a delight, if you 
can see your way through. There will be piles of 

[20] 



two] selecting a home 



brush to be cut from the untrimmed trees, and you 
must learn your first lesson in country economy — 
that is, to save the wood and use the ashes. You 
will perhaps retain a residence in the city while 
you are having the more important changes worked 
out and your first garden is planted. But as soon 
as there is safe water and good shelter, I recom- 
mend you to move onto your new place, and begin 
to grow to it, or make it grow to you. Do not get 
in a hurry at any point, but study every feature of 
the property, and move with deliberation. 

I have laid out and planted several places for 
myself, and for others, and I always do it first on 
paper. We can do it over and over again in that 
way, until we get the proper relations of things. Al- 
most surely you will find that there are some things 
about any old place that are valuable to retain — a 
few choice trees can certainly be made companion- 
able. The house, in some cases, will be a real ac- 
quisition — quaint, human, homeful. In the gar- 
den you will find some old plum trees, and in the 
corner, mixed with weeds, you will find sage and 
wormwood. Currant bushes and possibly berries 
are half covered with grass, but can be transplanted 
into a cleaner garden. The charm of it is that you 

[21] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



cannot do all the transforming at once — it is a 
growth. Meanwhile you are yourselves transform- 
ing, and are seeing more clearly what is natural and 
beautiful and wise. I myself prefer that the plot 
that you select be without a house; but have a grove 
and an orchard, or at least a few trees. It may 
have been a pasture; and if so the soil will not be 
barren, although it will greatly need cultivation. 
More likely, in buying an old place you will find 
confusion. A dozen ideas of successive owners 
or tenants will have grown over each other, and 
created a snarl, which will tax your patience to 
straighten out. 

We must, however, get at this matter more spe- 
cifically, and find out what each one proposes to do 
in the country. That is not very unlike asking, 
What are you ? What do you want of the trees and 
the soil ? I should like to feel that every one of you 
intend to establish frank, honest relations with 
the material world — or a piece of it — yourself 
furnishing the soul. That is, you mean to open 
your mind to the physical universe; and so let the 
universe open its mind to you. You do not intend 
to build a home with your eyes shut, and your ears 
shut, and even your sense of smell aborted. " Of 

[22] 



two] selecting a home 



course not," you say; "it is absurd to suppose it." 
It is absurd, sure enough; but I am confident that 
most people in the country do not see, or hear, or 
even smell adequately. They know almost nothing 
of what is going on about them. Any bird is just a 
bird. An apple tree is an apple tree, and nothing 
more. They have no intimate acquaintances 
among the bushes and the animal creatures. "Yes," 
said a visitor, "this is fine; but it must be awfully 
lonesome." I said, "I had forgotten that. It is 
indeed lonesome until you get acquainted. Do 
you hear that tree toad ? He is an acquaintance of 
mine. Do you hear that catbird ? He is a close 
friend of mine. Then do you see that every bush 
and every tree I myself have planted, and I know 
its life-thought and purpose.^ Lonesome.^ The 
city is the place in which to be all alone." 

The day laborer, the lawyer, the merchant, the 
school teacher are all seeking country homes for dif- 
ferent reasons. I have a letter from a Philadelphia 
schoolma'am who says, "I am dead tired of this 
treadmill work. If I could have a school and carry 
out my own ideals I would enjoy it. So far Amer- 
ican education has looked out for the individuality 
of the pupils, but has forgotten that the teacher 

[231 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



has any. I must carry out other people's feehngs 
and views. Very well, I am going into the country 
to make a home for mine own self. I have about 
two thousand dollars to use, and now I want your 
advice. Can a woman make a living in the country, 
without a man to take care of her ? Why cannot I 
keep bees, or raise chickens for broilers, or have a 
greenhouse, or grow small fruits ? " To be sure, you 
can do all or any of these things, if, with a small 
capital, you have grit and judgment. Another letter 
is from a young fellow who says, "I was born in 
the country, but my schooling did not fit me for life 
on the farm ; it only taught me how to ' do busi- 
ness ' ; I did not understand that farming is business. 
City life seemed to me something better and larger 
than country life, and handling capital to be the 
greatest possible ambition. I have done business, 
and I have handled capital. I begin to see now 
that my life is not broad, but desperately narrow. 
I wish my children to grow up with the trees and the 
birds. I should like your advice about how to get 
a home, where we shall be right in the line of what 
I call modern progress — that is, progress toward 
simple and natural life. I shall gradually let go 
of city work, and . my ambition will be to create 

[24] 



two] selecting a home 



a country home that will pay its own way." That 
is the sort of home this book is intended to lead 
toward. Anyone with a decent start can make 
the most beautiful home in the country pay its own 
way — that we lay down as a fundamental princi- 
ple, that the useful and the beautiful can go to- 
gether. 

Our friend the school teacher may take a wide 
range of choice. If bee-keeping is selected, it should 
certainly be in connection with the growing of small 
fruits. Bees make large quantities of honey from 
orchard flowers and from the small-fruit garden. 
In another chapter I shall explain the value to the 
bee-keeper of linden trees — or, as they are com- 
monly called, basswoods. But if you determine to 
grow flowers your market should not be remote. 
Florists thrive best in the near suburbs of cities. I 
know, however, a woman who makes a splendid 
living raising turkeys, and she is located forty miles 
from market. There is always a splendid opening 
in the way of growing fowls and furnishing eggs; 
and this occupation does not positively require that 
you live near a city. 

Whatever occupation you make a specialty, bear 
in mind that, with modern, scientific methods, more 

[25] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



money is made and a better living won from ten 
acres of intensive farming than from ten times that 
number of acres broadly tilled. I have but nine 
acres, and they are at least one-half devoted to orna- 
mental trees, shrubs, and flowers ; yet I find it possi- 
ble to sell from one thousand to twelve hundred dol- 
lars worth each year of small fruits. Flowers, if 
sold, might add to this cash income. Such a place, 
combining the beautiful and the profitable, must in 
all cases be located at no great distance from a good 
market. Trolley lines will, however, soon be picking 
up our loaded wagons and hauling them to market ; 
— so that we may have our gardens twenty-five or 
possibly fifty miles from the city. At present I 
should prefer not to be more than from six to ten 
miles from my customers. Even this will necessi- 
tate very early rising, and considerable loss of time 
in driving to and fro. The market gardener has the 
same requirements as to distance; while he must 
look more carefully as to depth of soil. Fruit re- 
quires strong clay; truck or vegetables require more 
loam and sand. For this reason the grower of 
vegetables must generally locate on the flat lands 
and the river bottoms, while the fruit grower seeks 
the hillsides and plants under the shelter of the 

[26] 



TWO] SELECTING A HOME 



forests. I do not consider any of these lines of work 
naturally distasteful or inappropriate to woman. 

The day laborer needs the country quite as much 
as the man of capital, but for different reasons. In 
the first place he has his home free of rent, and in 
the second place he can increase his dietary by 
home-grown vegetables and fruit. He can also 
keep a cow and pigs. Nor is it a small item in his 
suburban home that he can raise alfalfa enough to 
feed a horse. But in the third place he can give his 
children a chance out of the streets, and can asso- 
ciate their ambitions with the thought of home life. 
It is a sad lot for a family of children to grow up 
without being able to speak of any spot in the world 
as their own home. Transit will not, however, let 
the day laborer exercise so freely the choice of loca- 
tion. He must go back and forth to the city, every 
morning and night, and with speed. He will not be 
able, as a rule, to care for a large lot, while he must 
locate within easy reach of factory, or shop, or store. 
He is also least prepared, by training, to come out 
of herded life, because less actuated by individual- 
ized tastes. This is fortunate, however, because it 
is not yet possible for the largest cities to move the 
whole population to and fro as easily as a completed 

[27] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



suburbanism will demand. Yet there remains no 
reason why, in all but the most massive cities, the 
tenement system should not loosen its hold upon 
the common laborer, and release him from its horri- 
ble confusion, with its grime and smoke. 

A good country home for a man who goes daily 
into a city as a teamster or porter, should contain 
at least one acre and a half, and be two miles by 
trolley from the city line — adding a few rods of 
walk from the station. I know such a home on a 
side street, that runs, winding somewhat, near a 
creek, and not far from a grove of maples. From 
the door can be seen a half dozen similar homes, a 
smithy, and a large truck farm. On this truck farm 
are employed other laborers, who originally came 
from the city. The ground is sloping and sufficient- 
ly irregular to give easy and good drainage. The 
house is a pretty, eight-room structure, planted in a 
plain garden, where there are a dozen apple trees, 
with intermingled pear trees, plum trees and cher- 
ries. Besides these there are currant bushes and 
raspberries enough for a small family. Near the 
corner of the house are three hives of bees. You 
see also that there is a cow in the shed. It is not 
altogether a mod^l house or a model home; but it 

[28] 



two] selecting a home 



gives the owner fresh fruit and vegetables and his 
winter potatoes, while it lowers his meat bill, be- 
cause he has his own milk and chickens and eggs, 
while he is forming the habit of using more fruit. 
In the course of five years, by saving rent and keep- 
ing well on a better diet, a horse has been added to 
the family group. When this was done the wife 
and children could enjoy life better, and they could 
much enlarge and improve their garden. The wife, 
a woman of common sense, found a few private 
customers for her eggs, apples and vegetables. This 
led to more berries and flowers, until her income 
equaled that of her husband. If this book gets into 
the hands of many such people — and that is just 
what I wish — I would say, be sure of one thing, 
that you do not indulge in shame for any honest 
work. It is not a disgrace to sell — peddle, if you 
choose to call it — what you have thewit to produce. 
Above all, keep out of your children's heads that 
earning is less honorable than spending. I have 
poor neighbors who, for their dear lives' sake, would 
not take a load of vegetables or berries to market. 
False shame is always a mark of degeneracy. 

Riding between Boston and Albany I chanced to 
sit with a Boston merchant. *'I live out here," he 

[29] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



said, " at Wellesley Farms. Some days I do ilot go 
to the city at all. It is not necessary, because, by 
telephone, I can keep in close touch with my city 
affairs, and can direct them as well as if in the store. 
I spend a large share of my time with experimental 
farming. You should see my pears!" Then he 
launched out into an enthusiastic discourse on coun- 
try life, and what it was doing for health and com- 
fort and intellectual broadening. Of course, such 
men have very little to carry into the country, except 
money and art. They will make some comical 
blunders, but will be sure to work out notable 
experiments, and will do a vast deal to make 
country life every way more admirable. 

With ministers I have special sympathy — men 
who in this age are compelled to hold on largely to 
the conservative past, and wear themselves out, be- 
cause they are not allowed to adjust their work to 
the living present. They are no longer allowed to 
be pastors of the old, shepherd sort, and must be 
keenly alert to hold their own, until their nerves give 
out with the tension. Then they are " broken down 
ministers" — sadly at loss for any retreat. Every 
minister should cultivate horticulture ; and whatever 
else he does not do, he should secure early in life a 

[30] 



TWO] SELECTING A HOME 



vacation country home — here he should spend his 
off weeks, not exactly out of harness, but cultivating 
a sympathy for nature, and allowing nature to ex- 
press a sympathy for him. In this way he will be 
prepared at any time to take care of himself, if 
forced to leave the professional field. Such a home 
will not only welcome him in his old age or ill 
health ; it will also render him more independent in 
his preaching, and save his manhood as well as 
his intellectual vigor. 

It only remains to sketch a country place where a 
family of moderate income may retire, without being 
compelled to spend anything more for its keep than 
it pays back in crops. This is my ideal of a country 
home. Whatever may be our income otherwise, 
five or ten acres of land should be so handled as to 
pay its own way, and support a family. With 
rent removed, and many of the conventional ex- 
penses of city life avoided, a family may live in the 
country on from eight hundred to twelve hundred 
dollars a year. This amount can be taken from the 
sale of crops without sacrificing the beautiful. 

This new home of ours, in all its varieties, you 
will observe has certain converging lines. The tide 
outward from the city is carrying the people, under 

[31] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



the influence of conditions that seem at first quite 
similar to those which surrounded our fathers of 
seventy-five years ago — conditions that created a 
great degree of uniformity in customs, and a very 
fixed equaHty of privileges. But looking deeper, 
we shall see that old things are not to be repeated. 
There will be a combination of country and city life 
— country freedom with city culture. New ideas 
will take root easily, and new methods. The latest 
scientific information will be sought and applied. 
No one will be isolated. These new homes will be 
joined by telephones, so that they can talk together, 
plan together, laugh together. I think we shall 
have an age of real democracy — at least of growing 
democracy. 

I shall close this chapter with a few general hints. 
The first of these and one of the most important 
is that, wherever you establish your home, you do 
not undertake grading natural slopes into terraces or 
levels. Nature has probably as much wit in fixing 
the land as you can show with your plow and 
scraper. The most you should undertake is to re- 
move unnatural roughness, and fill up gullies; but 
you should not in any way disturb the general lay 
of the land. When that sort of improvement is once 

[32] 



two] selecting a home 



begun, there is no end to it ; and the result is more 
and more unsatisfactory. It throws your house lot 
out of relation to all the rest of the land. I see every 
day a noble hillside, where the houses were fitted to 
the land. But there came a wise man who under- 
took to fit the land to his house. He created a level 
in the side of a beautiful slope. This left a crude 
bank above and another below. These were dis- 
agreeable to look at, and more than compensated 
for the possible beauty of a smooth lawn. Then the 
easy-graded sidewalks fell into steps and flats. 
This remarkable achievement in the way of im- 
proving nature was soon rivaled by three or four 
more like it, until now there is neither form nor 
comeliness, nor a touch of nature to a quarter of a 
mile of superb building sites. My readers will 
find these artificialized hillsides quite too com- 
mon. Where terraces are created they have to be 
kept mended after every rain, and as the arable 
soil is mostly removed, it is always difiicult to 
sustain fertility. 

As a rule, take nature very much as you find her; 
grow to your surroundings, instead of shearing every 
thing to your preconceived views. When you have 
done you should have fitted yourself in, almost as 

[33] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

simply as a tree would have sprung up from the soil. 
In general terms, leave the artificial behind you ; and 
do not undertake to create a bit of city lawn right in 
the heart of nature's lawn. Be simple and straight- 
forward in all your relations to the world around 
you. No directions of mine can guide you here. 
What you have to do is to make a thorough study 
of nature, and of what the brains of men are natu- 
rally called upon to do in the way of improvement. 
I have said nothing about fences, because there 
should be none. It is possible that you will locate 
where the stock law is not enforced; and you will 
then, of course, be compelled to protect your prop- 
erty. But fencing against our neighbors is happily 
becoming a thing of the past. Wherever it must be 
done, use wire, or, possibly, hedges. Hedges are 
invaluable on a highly ornamental place, but are 
less and less popular as line or division fences. They 
should never be planted by the street side. Wire 
f ences,without barbs, can be constructed very neatly 
and stoutly and cheaply, and are so inconspicuous 
that they should be preferred to boards and pickets. 
Stone fences may be in themselves beautiful; and 
when run over with ivies or bittersweets are invalu- 
able as natural accessories. 

[34] 



two] selecting a home 



As your place progresses it should express one 
concrete single idea. Most places undertake to 
make a bundle out of gathered notions. They put 
together as much of the useful or of the beautiful, 
or both, as can be collected by the owner. He buys 
whatever he hears of as desirable, especially what 
agents urge upon him, and places his collections as 
conspicuously as possible around his house. His 
property not only does not express himself, his taste, 
his likes, his imagination, his growth, but his utter 
lack of all these. I never could see why a house 
should be surrounded by all the queer things and 
all the pretty things collectable ; for this is to create 
a museum, not a home. Around the house let na- 
ture do largely as she will, with your brains and 
hands to cooperate. Better a half-dozen hearty 
native trees, in free development, full of birds' nests, 
than a lot of dwarf trees and weeping trees and 
homesick trees from China, each out of harmony 
with the others, and with the place which you 
call home. This unity should include the whole 
property — house, barns, gardens, lawns. Your 
business is to see that this unity is sustained, and 
no part of the home allowed to run down. 



35] 



CHAPTER THREE 
GROWING THE HOUSE 



JNowHERE in the world should industry be al- 
lowed to express itself more freely than when put- 
ting together material for a human soul to live in. 
Anyone going by such a home should easily be able 
to say, "That is Tom Jones's place — I'd know it 
by the look of it, by the free and easy approaches. 
It looks like him." Those animals which grow 
their own houses grow them to fit. You know a fish 
by the shell he lives in. 

The country house should stand far back from 
the street. It should be, if not near the center of 
your property, at least so near the center that no 
part of the land shall be diflficult to reach. What 
you want is not to get close to the public way, one 
of a long succession of houses, but to have elbow 
room for your tastes, and to get out of the eye of the 
critic — the unmerciful critic who refuses to let you 
be unlike himself, a whit better or worse. If you 



GROWING THE HOUSE 



have five or ten acres, the chances are that some- 
where about your property there will be a natural 
center. You will see this when you come to study 
the slopes, the swales, and the outlooks. From this 
heart-spot your life and work can pulsate most easily 
to all the parts. It is wonderful how the country is 
gotten up for this sort of individualism. You will 
surely find a knoll or a ridge upon which you can 
stand with a friend, and looking over the valleys and 
hills, say, " Is not this beautiful ? " It is on that 
spot you should begin to take root ; and your house 
should grow over you and around you — not to 
shut out those visions, but to take them in. 

The next and most positive consideration is that 
a country house must not be a city house transferred 
to rural surroundings, and in this way misplaced. 
A city house is what it is from necessity, and as a 
rule city houses must be very much alike. Each 
one and all together express neighborhood — pieces 
of something else. But a house in the country 
should mean a home; a place to live in and to grow 
in and to be yourself in. Yet all over the land we 
find stiff and formal imitations of those habitations 
which city restrictions compel to be built. On one 
side of these buildings we find no windows, or very 

[37] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



few. Without any reason at all where land is 
abundant, the bricks are piled up three stories high ; 
and all around this structure we find only one small, 
bayed window, and a narrow porch, utterly unin- 
habitable — scarcely large enough for two or three 
chairs. There is a pinchedness everywhere, in 
striking contrast with the broad and generous na- 
ture that surrounds it. Such a house, planted at a 
conventional distance from the street, has a conven- 
tional grass plot in front, where is to be heard the 
eternal racket of a lawn mower, shoved back and 
forth across the grass. This is not a country home 
at all, nor has it any fitness outside of city limits. 
If you go into the country, study first country needs, 
country fitnesses, country possibilities, and then ad- 
just yourself to the same. 

In the next place, it is to be of absolute importance 
that you plant your country house where you can 
secure good drainage. The sewerage must easily 
flow away from the house. Anything like stagna- 
tion should be avoided. If you have a swale or 
slope behind the house I advise you to carry all 
kitchen and closet sewerage to an open cesspool, 
not less than four hundred feet from the house. 
This cesspool can be easily made also a compost 

[38] 



three] growing the HOUSE 



heap, wherein you accumulate wastage from the 
fields and barns — using care not to block the sewer 
vent. In this way the house waste will become in- 
corporated in the compost and make it doubly val- 
uable. I have studied all the systems ; and some of 
them are excellent, if conditions are right. The 
Waring system distributes sewerage admirably, 
until the pipes become clogged. After that there 
is serious trouble, if the land lies level. The soil 
will sometimes get over-saturated, and poisonous 
effluvia arise out of our meadows. At all events 
keep in mind, while establishing your house, this 
question of easy and secure drainage. You cannot 
rely on servants to carry house slops to a safe de- 
posit. If the vegetable or flower garden be very 
near the door, the water of washing days can be 
profitably used about the plants and bushes. A 
bed of dahlias is a good thing near a kitchen door 
— or a bed of roses or of phloxes. These are all 
good drinkers and good feeders. If you have a 
row of pear trees at hand you can direct your help 
to dispose of considerable liquid waste about their 
roots. Salt water and brine may go to an asparagus 
bed or to a quince orchard, and a lesser amount of 
it can safely be distributed about pear and apple 

[39] 



THE COUNTRY HOME Fchapter 



trees. But a country house without any complete 
system of drainage is lacking in the prime essentiat 
— both for decency and for health. The pipes to 
the cesspool should not be less than five or six 
inches in diameter, because small pipes will surely 
be clogged with accumulation of greasy material. 
On the other hand, very large pipes are not easily 
flushed, and do not carry waste away with suflBcient 
rapidity. 

The cesspool I have described is, however, ad- 
visable only for homes that cover several acres. 
For small homesteads the safest and neatest plan is 
the earth closet. I append a description of a good 
closet from the pen of Dr. Julius Nelson, of the New 
Jersey Agricultural Experiment Station. " Shallow 
pits should be provided, with bottom and sides of 
brick laid in cement. We have a pit as small as 
four by four feet and three feet deep, adequate for 
the needs of a fair-sized family. The closet is to be 
built in front of this pit, with its rear projection one 
and one-half feet over the front side of the pit. The 
remainder of the pit is roofed in by a door hinged to 
the back of the closet. Everything is to be so 
tightly closed as to be fly-proof. In the closet should 
be kept a barrel of earth, or ashes, and a dipper. 

[40] 



thkee] growing the HOUSE 



The dirt to be used should be exceedingly dry, and 
be used freely. The pit should be emptied once in 
three months." Such a provision as this is open to 
the dangers of neglect ; and it is also open to the dif- 
ficulty that it does not take care of kitchen waste 
and slops. One of the government bulletins warns 
us that, "The supposition that because the privy 
stands on slightly lower ground than the top of the 
wall, and that because the well cannot become in- 
fected by surface drainage, there is no danger to be 
apprehended from the privy, is all too common. It 
is practically impossible to judge by the surface of 
the ground, of the various strata of soil below, some 
of them capable of conveying sewage contamination 
several hundred feet. The very fact that the liquid 
in a privy vault seeps away, is sufficient evidence 
that it has struck some porous strata and is going 
somewhere; and the frequent cases of typhoid and 
diphtheria, on what should be thoroughly healthful 
farms, are ample proof that it finds its way to the 
source of drinking water. Another fact that should 
not be lost sight of is, that wells are usually fed by 
underground courses, and one of these may pass 
directly beneath the privy vault." 

I never saw a dozen decent cellars in my life. 

[41] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



Either the lower or ground floor is a real story, with 
furnished rooms for housework, or it is a semi-dark, 
uncomfortable, and often ill-smelling storage place. 
We have got, before we can grow a house, to solve 
this cellar problem — the real footstool of human 
life. The right sort of cellar is not less than eight 
feet to the ceiling, with grouted floor, thick walls, 
half above ground, and thoroughly lighted. Such 
a cellar should be as clean and as sanitary as the 
upper floors, and should be perfectly safe for sleep- 
ing rooms, if needed for that purpose. Civilization 
covers nothing so outrageously barbarous as filthy 
cellars, where, among decaying vegetables and 
storages of mildewing barrels and bins, diseases are 
cradled, to break out above stairs when conditions 
are favorable. Therefore, first of all look out for 
your cellar. Your vegetables and your fruit will 
need moist storage, and should on no account be 
placed in the basement of your house, but rather in 
a storage-room under a part of your barn or carriage 
house. While digging for such storage, I tapped a 
spring which flowed so that I could, by piping it, 
retain it under the floor. This is left open at the 
head so that the moisture may modify the atmos- 
phere. Remember that a fruit cellar should not be 

[42] 



three] growing the HOUSE 



dry, although it should not be so damp as to be 
liable to mildew. 

The ordinary kitchen is a disgraced adjunct, 
where is caged that terrible and temporary foreigner 
which we call help. It ought to be the brightest, 
and, in some sense, the homefulest room in the 
whole house. Here is the center of a lot of thinking 
and of household art. Here are to be discovered 
and invented those marvelous concoctions which 
create good temper as well as good digestion. A 
mean kitchen will have a blighting influence on 
every room in the house. I put in, therefore, a 
strong plea for a reformed kitchen. Permanent 
seats, which are also lockers, ought to be arranged 
for it, together with a plenty of cupboards. Every 
kitchen, besides an adjacent pantry, should have as 
adjuncts a vestibule and a storeroom. Both of 
these should be neatly finished — not places for 
litter and carelessness. The storeroom should be 
large enough to contain barrels and boxes of food, 
and whatever else would crowd a pantry. I take 
it for granted that every rational country household 
buys by wholesale what it cannot grow, and so saves 
in the cost, while securing fresh goods. Where 
wholesale purchasing is impossible for an indi- 

[43] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



vidual, it can be secured by the clubbing of half a 
dozen families. The vestibule of the kitchen should 
be an orderly receptacle for overshoes, heavy boots, 
blacking brush, brooms, and should have its hooks 
for wet wraps and umbrellas. Along one side it 
should have a locker large enough to serve as a re- 
ceptacle for slop pails. These pails are essential 
to receive such waste as will be carried to the barn 
as food for animals. 

When woman has thoroughly realized the fact 
that a home kitchen is the most perfect laboratory 
in the world — for applied chemistry — she will 
lose her distaste for this field of domestic economy. 
This will go far to solve the problem of household 
help. The art of cooking and general homekeeping 
will be looked upon as a scientific achievement, 
and by no means a drudgery to be placed on the 
shoulders of a lower class. 

The dining-room is a social room, and ought to 
be especially cheering. It should be very light, al- 
though not sunny. It should be furnished with 
cut flowers; not to conceal the grossness of eating, 
but because in the orchard and garden are com- 
bined the flowers with the fruit. Diet in a country 
house consists very largely of fruit and nuts and 

[44] 



i 



three] growing the HOUSE 



cereals; and the meat should be garnished with 
herbs. A dining-room provided with apples, pears, 
grapes, berries, and with home-grown butternuts 
and walnuts is the ideal. Then right-cooking be- 
comes a science, to supplement and not to thwart 
nature. A true pumpkin pie is the summing up of 
generations of brainwork; or was it an inspiration 
of some Connecticut maiden ? I do not know, only 
I know I shall never be ashamed to eat a very large 
piece of pumpkin pie — '* such as my mother made." 
A boiled potato, "dried off," cracked open, floury 
and sweet, with a touch of golden butter, is better 
than the nightingales' tongues of Heliogabalus. 
With all, in due season, there should be a pitcher of 
home-brewed cider, made ot clean Spitzenburgs 
and Pound Sweets, half and half. In a true 
dining-room you test, comparatively and scientifi- 
cally, the quality of your new beans and corn and 
cauliflowers, and you study the comparative merits 
of your new sweet peas and nasturtiums. It is 
here that you learn what to grow, and what to 
make an object of culture, as well as of cultiva- 
tion. 

The primitive Saxon house was an All (or Hall). 
The first differentiation of this original Hall was 

[45] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



sleeping rooms. You will certainly allow every 
member of your family a separate room at night. 
It is quite enough that we should cooperate in work, 
in play, and throughout the day shall fuse our lives. 
We do not have suflScient opportunity for individual 
evolution at the best. Much physical illness and 
more moral enfeeblement depend on the fact that 
our selfhood is impinged upon all sides. So, what- 
ever else you do or do not do, let each child have a 
room of his own, where tastes and thought and life 
cannot be elbowed. Let him think alone, and plan 
alone, and, above all, sleep alone. The social side 
of the family is pretty sure of getting suflBcient op- 
portunity for development. If the child's tastes are 
peculiar, even outre, let them mainly alone. Con- 
formity is altogether too strong a drift in our hered- 
ity. Then, whatever else you yield, do not yield 
your own private room. 

The library is no longer the most important home 
center. Books do not have that strictly authorita- 
tive position that they had half a century ago. Yet 
in the country one still needs translators and inter- 
preters. The growing list of nature books, and their 
increasing popularity, indicates the need on the part 
of the vast bulk of our population, of help for very 

L46] 



thkee] growing the HOUSE 



common seeing and hearing. Most people see in 
exceedingly narrow grooves. Besides, there is this 
peculiar danger, not to be overlooked, that as we 
come closer to nature, literary culture will lose too 
large a share of its influence. I would have my 
country-bred boys and girls as close to the so-called 
" Humanities" as to the Sciences; that is, as close to 
history and mathematics as to botany and geology. 
They should learn to comprehend pure literature; 
and to have a taste for Whittier and Burns and Scott 
and Phillips Brooks, and all that is stimulating to 
pure thought and art and poetry — climbing up to 
Shakespeare and the Bible. So the library will be 
a delightful cozy room, or alcove, where good books 
lord it. The atmosphere must suggest great thoughts 
and great men. You must feel the British essayists, 
and the American essayists as well. Here the sup- 
ply must be according to your purse somewhat, yet 
it can easily include a hundred character-making 
volumes — enough to establish an atmosphere. 
The family and private rooms may also have books 
of appropriate sort, but they ought not to prevent 
at least a book nook, even in the homeliest cot- 
tage. Be sure that you do not rely on borrowed 
books. They smell of dirty hands and tobacco 

[47] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [ch.vpter 



smoke, and then you have no feeling of friendship 
with authors who are only visitors. 

I have advocated individualism strongly, but it 
should not be allowed to go too far. The kitchen 
used to constitute a family room, but to-day, even 
in country houses, the kitchen has become a ser- 
vants' retreat ; and in too many cases no substitute 
has been established. Every home, especially 
every country home, should have a family room. 
This should be the heart of the house, where all 
gather together for conversation, for music, and for 
sport. It should not be the reception room — de- 
voted to strangers — nor the library, nor the labor- 
atory; but a room in which to grow a family spirit 
— to keep up the oneness of the housefolk. With- 
out it your boys and your girls will seek social life 
elsewhere, and the social life of your own house will 
only be that conventionalism which is sure to be 
bred where outsiders are included. 

A conservatory is not really as necessary in the 
country as it is to have the surroundings of the house 
bright and cheerful for winter; yet nearly every 
country house may have, if it will, cozy corners for 
potted plants. I shall give you my experience in 
arranging a house room for this purpose, and then 

[48] 



three] growing the HOUSE 



tell you to what I have settled down. I began with 
a small conservatory, capable of holding perhaps 
fifty pots. This was placed, as it ought to have 
been, facing the east — with the south end closed 
against the sun. The morning light is best for 
plants, as it is for folks. Growth goes on mostly 
under the impulse of the dawn. Babies and plants 
should be seen by the rising sun — old folks also, 
if they would have sweet dispositions and long lives. 
. But after a time I found it difficult to keep the 
floor from having wetted spots, and there were rot- 
ting boards. The atmosphere was not the best, and 
not good altogether to let loose into the house. 
There is nothing worse than sick plants to poison 
the atmosphere ; and it was not always easy to keep 
every plant in robust health. Then I tried a simple 
table and a sunny window — using the conservatory 
for another purpose. I turned a couple of marble 
tops bottom upward, and they made capital plant 
stands. On one of these, in a large, sunny window, 
I now grow magnificent pelargoniums, five feet high, 
and back of these there are a few fuchsias. On an- 
other stand, in a north window, grow Rex Begonias. 
Other plants are kept in the balcony that is enclosed 
for winter, and for summer is open for a hammock. 

[49] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



Here are geraniums, with a Virginia Coxe rose, a 
couple of Chinese primroses, and nasturtiums 
galore. I think this plan of scattering plants about 
the house is on the whole preferable for most homes 
in the country. 

But my special delight is in fruit-bearing plants. 
It is just as easy to grow a dwarf orange, with its 
delicious perfume and its golden fruit, the guava, 
with its sweet flowers and abundant fruit, as it is to 
grow flower-bearing plants. The American Won- 
der Lemon is, all in all, the most perfect pot plant 
that I have ever grown. It is loaded constantly 
with flowers, twice as large as orange-blossoms, and 
the lemon itself is larger than any Florida orange — 
while its quality is perfect. A lemon may be seen 
growing on a tree two feet high, and weighing from 
one to two pounds. Dwarf peaches may be grown 
with equal ease in a cool, light room, if the trees are 
given an annual rest. I recommend my readers 
to try growing in pots fruit-bearing as well as flower- 
bearing plants. 

So you see I have practically given up the idea of 
a conservatory; and as for a greenhouse, it is even 
less advisable for the majority of our country houses. 
I have seen them tried repeatedly ; but in nearly all 

[50] 



THREE] GROWING THE HOUSE 



cases they are either soon abandoned or they are 
receptacles of a lot of worthless stuff, not well 
cared for. I am writing for those who have not a 
mint to draw upon, and to whom rational economy 
is common sense. It will not do, when moving into 
the country, to undertake such an annual outlay 
as will destroy the charm of free life and the enjoy- 
ment of nature. I prefer to have bright spots about 
the different rooms of my home, and I like to see the 
sun laugh when it looks into a bedroom window 
and finds a begonia or a primrose. It at once 
shines its best, and works at the carbon gases until 
they are woven into leaves and flowers. 

A home shop is essential to every complete coun- 
try home. This is a matter of economy, and, in 
repairs alone, will be worth annually more than its 
cost, while in time saved it will prove to be even 
more valuable. When village repair shops are from 
one to five miles distant, it is no mean item of loss to 
be compelled to leave the plow or the hay field or the 
harvest, to secure an hour's work at forge or lathe. 
My own shop is always called upon at least once a 
week. It is furnished with engine, lathe, forge, and 
all tools necessary for carpentry as well as for turn- 
ing. A screw can be turned or a bolt made at short 

[51] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



notice. It is not diflScult for my boys to make a new 
chisel or some similar tool, to help us through a 
hurried job. Here is our saw for cutting wood, our 
bone-grinder, and a cider press for utilizing waste 
fruit. We sometimes grind one hundred barrels of 
apples in a year into cider and vinegar. All this, or 
nearly all this, is material that is allowed to go to 
waste on large farms. If a chair or table be broken, 
it goes to the shop ; and so it is with all those forlorn 
happenings that generally stock a storeroom with 
useless rubbish — that finally finds its way into bon- 
fires. But construction is even more important 
than repairing. A shop leads a boy to try his skill. 
He thinks, he invents — he and the tools think to- 
together. The chiefest of drawbacks with recent 
farm life has, next to isolation, been its sharp alien- 
ation from all industries but land tillage. The fac- 
tories stole from us, one by one, all the industrial 
arts, out of doors and indoors. The mothers gave 
up their spinning, their weaving and their knitting ; 
and the fathers gave up their building, their shoe- 
making, and their cheese and butter making. The 
farm was left to the duller work of every-day drudg- 
ery. Science had not come in to teach the charm of 
comparative culture, and agricultural tools had not 

[52] 



three] growing THE HOUSE 



lifted drudgery into enterprise. The shop is a 
needed alliance of mechanics with agriculture. It 
not only makes tools, but better-rounded characters ; 
and it widens the power of our young folks. 

We are living in an age of science. This requires 
that we shall readjust our land culture to precise 
methods. The tendency is to smaller homesteads, 
better tilled. We are learning to intensify and per- 
fect, and so to get our harvests gradually up toward 
a maximum. In order to accomplish this, our chil- 
dren must be educated to scientific methods of seeing 
and hearing, as well as doing. Before grammar and 
arithmetic must come the art of using the senses. 
Entomology has become a part of good farming. We 
must know our friends among the insects from the 
foes. All this brings us to another differentiation 
in house-growing. We must have a laboratory — 
a room where chemistry, geology, botany, entomol- 
ogy, ornithology supplement land-culture and tree- 
culture. It should be a large and well-lighted 
room. Mine is over the shop. One corner is fur- 
nished for chemical experiments, another for botany, 
and another for entomology; but altogether, these 
combined illustrate their application to horticul- 
ture. All about us are cross-bred corns, beans, and 

[53] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

other seeds or esculents that have been scientifically 
produced by ourselves. No matter how simple and 
elementary the work that you can accomplish here, 
do not fail of having a laboratory. Where house 
room is not abundant, it may be an adjunct to the 
barn. This and the shop will become the center of 
much family thought, and more attractive for your 
young people than any social device that would 
draw them away from home. 

Your chimney should be built out of doors, with 
just as little as possible contact with woodwork, and 
the flue should be so small that the heat of the fire 
will easily send the draught upward. Nearly all 
smoking chimneys are caused by the fact that the 
fire is not strong enough to send up a column of hot 
air to overcome the dropping column. In other 
words, the chimney draws backward. To lift the 
chimney higher does no good, but makes the trouble 
worse. Old-fashioned fires, made of piled logs in 
huge fireplaces, would heat big chimneys and drive 
upward a column of smoke and heated air; but our 
furnaces and grates are not able to do this if the flue 
be large. An open fireplace is desirable in the fam- 
ily room if possible. Never will this world happen 
upon anything more homeful than the old-fashioned 

[54] 



three] growing the HOUSE 



open fire of logs, with brick hearths to catch the 
sparks, and ail the family around it, telling stories 
and cracking nuts, or paring apples, while the 
mother turned the great wheel or knitted at a home 
supply of stockings. But whether we have an open 
grate or not, we should at least make sure that 
every chimney be based upon the ground. 

If I were to build another house I would not have 
an ounce of plaster in it, nor a square of paper pasted 
over mortar. This is always subject to fading or to 
breakage. It opens the way to the display of bad 
taste, and in a few years it has become the harbor 
of disease germs. Every room should be wains- 
cotted in some neat wood that can be oiled or var- 
nished as you will. It need not be costly or it may 
be as ornamental as your means allow. A house 
wainscotted with Georgia pine has an initial cost 
very little exceeding that of one properly plastered 
and papered; and it will need nothing more than 
oiling for fifty years. In case of infectious disease, 
thorough washing of the walls and thorough aerating 
of the rooms make them safe for occupancy. 

A white house in the country, if deeply imbedded 
in trees, is all right, but a white house standing near 
the street is in all ways disagreeable. The neutral 

[55] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



tints, SO popular fifty years ago, have the advantage 
of making the house inconspicuous — as it should 
be. But what we want is to have all our associations 
suggestive of our needs and emotions — that is, the 
house should suggest our living ideas and cares. 
Green and red are two colors that nature seldom 
tires of using; and it is much the same with warm 
yellow. Blue is used much more cautiously and 
delicately. A dark-red house, trimmed with dark 
green, very generally fits into the surroundings 
which nature offers in the country. 

Outbuildings should never be allowed to mar 
the symmetry and the unity of the home buildings. 
They should not break up or break into the idea 
that the place is intended to express. Greenhouses 
are a part of the idea of a florist's home, but they 
are not a natural part of an ordinary home. An 
observatory is generally a ludicrous pretence, unless 
you have a telescope, and study astronomy. Of all 
absurdities nothing can be more disagreeable than 
water-closets and cesspools in full view near a house 
— even though they be behind it. In fact, we should 
not so build and arrange our lawns that there shall 
be any part of the grounds which can be said to be 
back of the house. True homes front all ways, not 

[56] 



THREE] GROWING THE HOUSE 



simply toward a public road where Tom, Dick, and 
Harry drive by. Generally the front away from 
the street should be the more healthful, and freest 
from possible annoyance to the eye of him who is 
living the place into shape. 

It is a curious fact that economy in house building 
is almost always shown at the foundation. Cellar 
walls should be solid, thick, and eight feet high — 
no wasteful economy hereabout. There is no reason 
why one should creep about a dark underground 
dungeon to find potatoes for dinner. Where stone 
is plentiful, it is the only and fit material for foun- 
dation of either house or barn. Where stone is 
scarce, grout may be convenient — made of broken 
stone, sharp sand, and cement, laid slowly and 
thoroughly between plank supports, that are pulled 
up as the wall rises. 

Do not construct any half story. They are hot 
in summer, and generally uncomfortable at all 
times — without being economical. There is no 
reason why walls should so slope that we cannot 
stand erect anywhere about a room. You may 
spend more in five years trying to heat a cheapened 
house, with thin walls and ugly cellar and cheap 
materials, than a really well-built house would have 

[57] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



cost. Meanwhile you will never be comfortable or 
happy, or safe from pneumonia. But, however well 
you may have constructed your house, double win- 
dows for winter will often pay for themselves in 
conserved heat. 

This evolution of the house you will have seen 
has been simply an evolution of a human being. It 
has been yourself, learning to express yourself in 
different adjustments. As anyone gets to be better 
educated in his separate faculties, each of those 
faculties expresses itself in an apartment. A right 
sort of a house finds one out and reveals one to one's 
self. The whole house, altogether, is the whole 
human being working out into expression and sep- 
arate functioning. Now all around us we set the 
birds to singing and the trees to growing, while at the 
heart of all this life the soul lives. Your house should 
be where you would seek yourself on a pleasant day, 
among the trees ; and where of a stormy day you 
would like to find a retreat. Do as the crusta- 
ceans do : have a shell that you can use when you 
need it. You are yourself still more important 
than the wood or the brick that you have used. 
It -'t^^ng made to express your feelings. You 
have not set it in a row along the roadside just 

[58] 




^ '^ 



three] growing the HOUSE 



to have it, that is, yourself, looked at, and so 
that you can look yourself at the go-byes. It 
stands on a knoll well away from others, thoroughly 
individualized; and from its porches and balco- 
nies and windows it enters into soul-possession 
of the valley, the opposite hills, and even says to 
the sun and the moon and the sweet air, " You are 
mine." 

"One harvest from your field 

Homeward brought your oxen strong; 
Another crop your acres yield. 
Which I gather in a song." 

Emerson 



[59] 



CHAPTER FOUR 
WATER SUPPLY-WELLS, CISTERNS, ETC. 



1 oo many country homes undertake to get on 
without adequate water supply. Very few have 
perfect cisterns and entirely safe wells. This dep- 
rivation is seldom necessary, and takes away from 
country life one of its chiefest privileges. To be 
out of washing water half the time, or for a single 
month, is a serious burden to a housewife; and for 
wells to go dry in hot weather involves not only suf- 
fering, but danger to health and life. The water 
from a shallow well of fifteen to twenty-five feet in 
depth is never quite safe; and after a drought such 
a well is filled with surface water, that easily flows 
in through the shrunken and cracked soil — after 
which the water becomes a positive menace. Most 
of our brooks are no longer quite free from some 
sort of pollution, and should not be used for drink- 
ing, unless directly at the fountain head. Even 
there spring water, before it is adopted for a family 



WATER SUPPLY 



supply, should be analyzed, and all the surround- 
ings should be thoroughly examined. If your 
spring is analyzed as wholesome, and you are sure 
that it cannot be contaminated from some neigh- 
bor's drainage, build over it a spring house, of stone, 
if possible, and in this have a stone box for keeping 
meats cool, and a tank for milk cans. 

Wells are contaminated not only by surface water, 
by slops, and by barnyard drainage, but by sub- 
terranean streams that encounter cesspools or other 
contaminating substances. In this way typhoid 
fever bacteria, as well as those which cause diarrhea, 
dysentery, and probably other diseases are carried 
into the human system. It is thought that such 
epidemics as cholera are frequently caused by pol- 
luted wells. A well must therefore not only be 
placed on high ground, but we must make sure that 
the under-soil strata do not seep toward it. The 
impervious strata may slope so as to run water under 
the soil for quite a distance and turn it into a well. 
The ground immediately around the well should 
slope away from it, and the waste water from the 
well itself should not be allowed to soak down into 
the ground, carrying with it surface impurities and 
stagnation. But you cannot even then be sure of 

[61] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



safe water until you have inclosed the shaft with a 
water-tight wall, reaching down to solid rock. Then 
lift it above the soil for at least one foot, and you 
have probably made your well as safe as it can be 
made by this sort of precaution. After all is done, 
have your water frequently analyzed. Too much 
depends upon our drinking water, both in the coun- 
try and in the city, to allow of economy standing in 
the way of the utmost precaution. 

As a rule, the only positively sure and safe water 
for drinking is that obtained from deep rock. By 
drilling this will be, in the long run, the least ex- 
pensive supply — not only as avoiding doctors' bills, 
but as being absolutely adequate at all seasons. I 
have three dug wells, but as they changed flavor as 
well as chemical constituents at different seasons, 
and were also liable to give out during protracted 
drought, I added a drilled or artesian well. This 
well, although on high ground, struck excellent 
water at the depth of seventy -two feet — thirty feet 
being in solid rock. The water now stands at about 
one foot above the ground surface in the pipe, and if 
not confined, would constitute a flowing well. This 
is a rare chance ; but it is not diflScult to obtain a well 
where the water shall stand at only a few feet below 

[62] 



four] water supply 



the surface. The cost of my own well was one hun- 
dred and twelve dollars, to which must be added 
ten dollars for pump and plumbing work. In some 
localities the drill need not go down more than forty 
or fifty feet, to secure a permanent flow of absolutely 
safe water; yet, within a mile of me there are points 
where a good supply has not been reached at even 
two hundred feet. This depth would make the cost 
of a well not less than between three and four hun- 
dred dollars ; yet even at that figure it is a valuable 
investment — far better than if the same amount 
were put into costly furniture, or even an expensive 
house. 

As a rule, hilly land is not dry land, but frequently 
is just the contrary. The locality should be studied 
with care, and where you find that you easily strike 
springs near the surface, you can calculate that veins 
in the rocks can be found at a reasonable depth. In 
all cases you should watch the man who operates 
the drill ; for, at one dollar and fifty cents a foot, he 
is tempted to drill by an excellent flow of water, 
without reporting it to you — indeed, I think this is 
not uncommon in such wopk; and houses are fre- 
quently supplied with inferior water from a greater 
depth, while excellent water has been piped against. 

[63] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



Many veins of saturated shale will be touched that 
supply mineralized water, and you may decide as to 
whether these will be acceptable for your house 
supply. One of my wells gives me a strong flavor 
of sulphur — too strong at some seasons for table 
use. Another well gives me a strong taste of 
iron, with a slight taste of sulphur. 

Having a drilled well, or any other thoroughly 
safe supply of water, it should be invariably carried 
directly into the house. If it be from a flowing 
well, or from a pure spring, pumping will not always 
be necessary; but in most cases a force pump must 
be attached to your kitchen sink, or to a basin of 
marble or iron, in some convenient corner of the 
room. Drainage from the basin should be con- 
nected with the general waste pipe, so as to assist 
in carrying off the refuse or the greasy water of the 
sink. The pipe that conveys the water through the 
soil and into the house should be of iron, and the 
connection should be carefully looked after. Too 
much precaution cannot be taken against lead pipes, 
or against lead at the joints. Removing lead pipes 
from my own well — purely from a sanitary point 
of view — some years ago, I employed a plumber 
who cemented the joints of the iron with a soft red 

[64] 



four] water supply 



lead paste. As a consequence my whole family was 
poisoned, one son almost fatally. Lead poisoning is 
one of those fearful dangers, involving terrible suffer- 
ing, that cannot be too carefully guarded against — 
not only in well pipes but in faucets and receptacles. 
An ignorant or careless plumber may undermine 
the health of a household, even while apparent- 
ly providing against danger. Let the water which 
will be used for drinking purposes be brought 
through iron pipes, carefully cemented with 
graphite mixtures. Water obtained from a deep 
well is always as cold as it is safe to use, and 
you may cut off your supply of ice. Ice-water 
is always more or less dangerous, while cold well- 
water is almost never injurious. It is of an even 
temperature, and sufficiently cold for rational 
purposes. 

One of our ablest sanitary writers tells us that 
"Well-water, as it is found in the ordinary com- 
munity, is rarely safe — where it is safe is the ex- 
ception. One well of absolutely untainted water 
may be found to ninety-nine that are more or less 
impure." The same writer, speaking of reservoirs, 
urges that, while possibly they may be suitable for 
human use, the probability is that they contain 

[65] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

germs of disease. Nor can it be overlooked that 
freezing these reservoirs or ponds does not destroy 
injurious bacteria. The use of the Pasteur filter is 
recommended in all houses — even where the water 
supply is supposed to be absolutely perfect. The 
alum treatment is also efficacious, but not the most 
reliable. 

Water supply for your barn and stables should 
be as pure as that for the house. While animals 
may not be, apparently, sickened by the use of tain- 
ted water, they often are diseased; and a cow's milk 
is certainly vitiated by what she drinks, as well as 
flavored by what she eats. You can carry water 
from a drilled or artesian well into your barns and 
stables, and obtain a constant supply of pure, cool 
water. It should be carried directly into the stalls, 
through pipes that supply separate drinking basins. 
Wastage from these troughs can be easily provided 
for, down the grouting to the drainage pipes. In 
this way animals can drink when they choose — not 
when they must. If possible, have your well on 
ground above your buildings, and carry the water 
in pipes that tap the main well tube, or can be filled 
by pumping. Flushing-tanks in each stall regu- 
late the supply. By this system the saving of work 

[66] 



four] water supply 



is a large item, while the cleanliness of the stable is 
better secured. 

The use of a windmill on a farm is just begin- 
ning to be understood in our Eastern States; in 
the Western States they are far more common. 
Where a small supply of water is needed 
and a very small tank is used, the results 
may not be satisfactory; but for a large stable, 
with a large tank and large mill, this is the ideal 
system. A small gasoline engine will do your 
pumping far more steadily and certainly, while 
it will also do other work. A small steam plant, al- 
though more expensive, is in the long run most 
economical. When pumping is done by an en- 
gine the distributing tank may be quite small, as it 
can be filled every day. The working by wind is 
more fitful, and the tank must sometimes hold 
enough to last for several days. 

Of cistern water a country house can hardly have 
too large a supply. There should be enough for very 
free use in the kitchen, for the washing and the scrub- 
bing, and enough for bathing. A modern family 
holds a bathroom among its chief requirements, and 
very justly so. Whatever else you fail to do, at least 
compel your children to take a daily bath in clean, 

[67] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

fresh cistern water. If this water be caught on the 
roof, the gutters and the pipes as well as the roofs 
should be kept clean. A very good plan is to 
bury your cistern under ground — anywhere about 
your house, even under the driveway. I have a 
wooden cistern which has been in use twelve years. 
Opening it two years ago, I found almost no decay, 
and very little deposit; the water was absolutely 
clean. An open cistern of stone, in my cellar, gives 
me far more trouble. In fact, I do not recommend 
a cistern inside the house under any conditions. 
But wherever your cistern is placed, the pipes 
should lead directly into the kitchen. Either di- 
rectly from the cistern or from a reservoir, water 
should also be carried to the bathroom and to the 
sleeping rooms. 

Irrigation is too generally considered as a provi- 
sion belonging only to extensive farming, and home- 
making on arid lands. It will hereafter be a method 
of supplying water for the gardens and meadows 
and field crops of intensive farming. We are grow- 
ing less and less patient with the enormous loss in our 
strawberry beds and our truck gardens, caused by 
dry spells, just in the nick of time. The loss runs up 
in the aggregate to hundreds of millions every year. 

[68] 



four] water supply 



The remedy by tree and forest planting, and by 
reservoir control of spring floods, is a slow one to 
compass; and it will remain incomplete, without a 
system of artificial distribution of the water. At 
any rate, the Eastern farmer is facing the problem of 
how best to spread water over his very uneven fields; 
mainly obtained from wells, by windmills, and held 
in reservoirs. Occasionally brooks can be utilized 
without windmills, the water being dammed to a 
height suflScient to compass its distribution over 
lower fields. Small lakes, more common in Michi- 
gan and other Western States, can be brought into 
service. The windmill and tank must, in many 
cases, be on the bank of the lake. Unfortunately, 
we can seldom work out the problem by a general 
system, as is done in arid sections of the West. It 
must be thought out and wrought out in each case 
according to conditions. 

Our Eastern homesteads have to meet the prob- 
lem of irrigation over very uneven ground. The 
difficulties are so complex in the New England 
and the Middle States, as to induce us to anticipate 
enough annual rain, and in spite of repeated disap- 
pointment, to put off artificial preparations. Sta- 
tistics, however, show that at least one year out of 

[69] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



every five, and generally two out of every five, crops 
are reduced by drought so largely as to bring down 
the farmers' profits to a meager minimum, if not to 
wipe them out altogether. 

It must, however, be noted that the land-owner 
can supply his crops with a very large amount of 
moisture without resort to an irrigation system. 
The full effect of ditching and of cultivating — 
that is, stirring the soil, has never yet been fully ap- 
preciated by gardeners and farmers. Running the 
cultivator all summer keeps the soil loose and re- 
tentive of moisture. In very many cases this is all 
that you will require in the humid states. We 
must, however, place great emphasis on the fre- 
quency with which the work is done. In berry 
gardens, and in vegetable gardens, the usual cus- 
tom of cultivating once or twice does not begin to 
cover the requirements of even an ordinary year. 
The work should be begun early in the spring, and 
the cultivator kept running until the crops are about 
ready for harvesting. Bear in mind that about 
fifty per cent of ordinary soil is not soil at all, but 
space filled with water and air. What we want is 
to keep the soil in such a condition that it can be 
very full of these water cells — constantly refilled 

[70] 



four] water supply 



from the atmosphere. If not stirred, a crust is soon 
formed against the air and moisture. At the same 
time that the loose soil absorbs and retains the 
moisture, it takes in, with the water, fertilizing ele- 
ments from the surface and the air. 

We must also anticipate another point, that 
drainage is quite as truly a method of keeping soil 
moist as it is of keeping it from being wet. Con- 
tradictory as this may seem, it is nevertheless true 
that good drainage is one of the best ways of pre- 
venting serious damage from drought. Undrained 
land is soggy in wet weather, but is not retentive of 
moisture in dry weather. It bakes hard, and vege- 
tation is killed outright. There is hardly a piece of 
land in existence that will not be better fitted for 
resisting a dry spell by being well underdrained. 
Tile or stone drains should be placed from twenty 
to one hundred feet apart and three to four feet 
below the surface. The cost will, of course, vary 
quite largely — from fifteen dollars per acre to forty- 
five or fifty. The profit, however, derived, in the 
way of increased crops and decreased damage from 
drought, will compensate the land-owner very speed- 
ily. I have found, still further, that good drainage 
enables the roots of many plants — such as alfalfa 

[71] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



and strawberries — to strike much deeper into the 
soil, and feed at a greater depth. In this way many 
good things go together — drainage, irrigation, and 
an increase in our abiUty to use natural resources. 
I find the record of a twenty-acre field, which usu- 
ally yielded twenty-five bushels of corn per acre, 
but after thorough drainage yielded sixty bushels 
of corn per acre — and paid, in a single year, the 
entire cost of tile-drainage. The outlet of the sys- 
tem of drainage should be into a larger drain, and 
thence, by a free outlet, into a large stream, or else- 
where, without doing damage. 

After a full consideration of the provisos I have 
named, thorough drainage and thorough cultiva- 
tion, there will still remain, even in our most humid 
states, a great loss in all sorts of farm crops, and es- 
pecially in berry gardens, so long as irrigation is 
not applied in a regular and scientific manner. 
We must make our country homes on a basis of an 
unfailing supply of water and entire deliverance 
from the chances of the seasons. 

Intensive farming is the growing of a large num- 
ber of crops in the place of one or two crops, and 
the application of scientific principles so as to se- 
cure the very best results. This involves a growing 

[72] 



four] water supply 

need for artificial irrigation. Strawberries and 
raspberries net growers from three to four hundred 
dollars per acre; asparagus and vegetables bring a 
profit of from one to three hundred dollars per 
acre. It will not do to subject these crops to the 
chance of abundant rainfalls. Where it is done, 
the maximum profit of four hundred drops down to 
one hundred, or even less. It is clear enough that 
the losses of a single year would more than pay for 
an irrigation plant on a farm of ten acres. In the 
State of Connecticut four hundred and seventy- 
one acres were reported recently as irrigated, at a 
cost for ditches, pipes, pumps, reservoirs, and all 
other appliances, of a little over sixteen thousand 
dollars. This would be an average expense of 
about thirty-four dollars per acre — to be paid for 
by the onions ruined by a drought on one-quarter 
of an acre. 

In arid lands, which are, as a rule, more level, 
the expense of irrigation is only about ten dollars 
per acre. These lands cover vast areas, fit to make 
homesteads for millions of our people. This 
problem is, however, one for the nation, rather than 
for individuals. President Roosevelt justly says, 
"There is no one question now before the people 

[73] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



of the United States of greater importance than 
that of the water supply and the reclamation of 
the arid lands, and their settlement by men who 
will actually build homes and create communities. 
Throughout our history the success of the home- 
maker has been but another name for the upbuild- 
ing of the nation." Irrigation by the government, 
supplemented by individual economy, shows that 
in Arizona, where high-class fruits are cultivated, a 
family of five can obtain a good living upon forty 
acres, or even from twenty. 

A bulletin issued by the United States Depart- 
ment of Agriculture reports on the cost of a small 
system of irrigation. It makes its estimate of a 
ditch one and a quarter miles long, with main lat- 
erals five-eighths of a mile long. The first cost of 
removing the dirt from the ditches would be a little 
over sixty-two dollars. The cost of head-gate, 
drop, division boxes, and other appurtenances is 
set down at one hundred and twenty-five dollars, 
adding twelve dollars for making levels and running 
lines. The total cost will not be far from two hun- 
dred dollars. The annual outlay for maintaining 
ditches and irrigating will be about sixty-eight dol- 
lars more. In this estimate the farmer is supposed 

[74] 



four] water supply 



to hire all the work done. If he can do the work 
himself his outlay will be mainly for lumber, re- 
ducing the cost about one-half. 

It not unfrequently occurs, in our hilly states, 
that a farmer may dam a glen brook, and lead the 
water to his house, or to his barn, or both, at the 
same time doing more or less irrigating. I know 
one who has constructed a very solid dam, at an 
expense of about two hundred dollars. From this 
reservoir pipes lead the water down a swale, to his 
house and outbuildings. At the house he has es- 
tablished a hydrant, from which a hose, in case of 
fire, could cover his buildings with water. An- 
other pipe supplies a tank with flowing water, in 
quantity sufficient for a large number of cows and 
horses. The kitchen garden can be irrigated by 
leading a hose from the hydrant near the house. 
He can flood his celery when he pleases. A small 
strawberry bed has its paths a little deeper than 
usual, and these become irrigation ditches when 
necessary. "Does it pay .^" "It certainly does, in 
half a dozen ways. The- barn supply alone, of pure 
spring water, would compensate for the cost of the 
dam; but, you see, my house is practically saf-e 
from fire. I carry some fire insurance, but I don't 

[75] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

rely upon it. In my judgment insurance never 
makes good an honest man's loss. His house is 
full of himself, sir, and an old man never feels like 
building another. If he does, he will never be 
quite at home in it." 

I have tided over one or two droughts in straw- 
berry time with a pipe dropped into a well, and 
then, with an elbow, carried down among my beds. 
You have to start the flow, after which it works by 
siphonage. Of course the flow will soon empty an 
ordinary well; and the well must, itself, stand con- 
siderably higher than the field to be irrigated. It is 
not an admirable provision, but may save us a 
heavy loss when we have no better provision. In 
all cases, just as soon as the wetted soil is beyond 
the mud state, you should run a cultivator, and turn 
the drier soil to the top. This will hold in the mois- 
ture for two or three days; otherwise it will dry 
rapidly, and leave the surface of the soil baked and 
cracking. Then if the drought comes, the irriga- 
tion may prove to have been a positive damage. 
Even when watering with pails, the wetted soil 
should at once be covered with dry soil, to prevent 
evaporation. Never sprinkle a strawberry bed, or 
any other ground, with the idea that the soil or 

[76] 



four] water supply 



plants will be benefited by a casual sprinkling. 
The earth must be thoroughly wetted, so that the 
moisture will reach the roots of the plants, or more 
harm than good will be done. 

The best time of day for irrigating is open to dis- 
cussion. If water be applied in the morning it is 
more readily evaporated by the heat of the day; if 
applied in the evening it is working at the roots of 
the plants, to feed them all night. Mr. Saunders, 
a skilled horticulturist, gives this rule: "Water at 
any time when the plants need it, only water thor- 
oughly. When I am told that watering in the sun- 
shine, at noon, will burn up my plants, I answer 
that the plants will certainly burn up if I do not 
water them." The most important point is to see 
that the wet earth is mulched with dry. Cultivat- 
ing is often called soil mulching. 

It is equally important to use mulches about trees, 
in order to retain moisture and to keep the soil in 
a condition to absorb moisture. Many people use 
mulches in their strawberry beds, filling the paths 
with cut straw or other material that will prevent 
evaporation. The best material to apply about 
young trees is probably coal ashes. It is sufiicient- 
ly porous, and yet, if laid thickly about the tree, it 

[77] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



will do admirable service. Tan-bark is often a con- 
venient substance, while chip-waste will serve, 
where it can be obtained in quantity ; better yet 
sawdust. Weeds will not easily come up through 
the ashes, but will, in time, work their way through 
sawdust. The mulch should be removed once a 
year, the soil thoroughly forked, and then the mulch 
replaced or renewed. 

You can coax a brook to do almost anything, from 
turning a boy's mimic wheel to forming a carp pond 
or a cranberry bog. A neighbor has built a dam 
across a brook, and it goes down to irrigate his gar- 
den, to fill water-lily tubs, and then create a garden 
pond, where he has a fountain constantly playing. 
But the best part of the brook is, after all, up under 
the limbs of the huge willows, where the bare-foot- 
ed boys can wade, or take a noonday bath. Utili- 
zation of brooks does not consist wholly in the use 
of the water for houses, barns, and irrigation. Al- 
ways buy a brook, if you can, while seeking a coun- 
try home. The most beautiful thing in the country 
is a brook that sweeps and tumbles, and whirls 
about and eddies, — kissing the overhanging rocks 
— that bathes the tree roots, plays with the peb- 
bles, dashes spray over the lichens, and then carries 

[78] 




THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING IX THE COUNTRY IS A BROOK 



FOUR] WATER SUPPLY 



off autumn leaves, to hide them under logs, or 
spread them in the meadows for humus; and all 
the while is the happy home of fish and salaman- 
ders, and of crabs that walk sideways and lift ri- 
diculous gauntlets to the man in the moon. A 
country without brooks is always a lonesome place. 
The New England States and the Middle States 
are in nothing else richer than in those streams 
that gush out of the hillsides. If you have one it is 
for you to study, to companion, and listen to its 
advice. I mean that man, who cannot live by 
bread alone, cannot live by bread and water — that 
the poetry of a country home is just as essential a 
part of it as the gardens and the orchards. 

In the making of new homes in the country, es- 
pecially in the West, nothing so fixes family life — 
so settles it to a locality and creates the home feel- 
ing, as a good well. It was about water that Eastern 
civilization clustered and developed, and it is not 
wholly otherwise with us. So it is that health, com- 
fort and homefulness all unite about the deep and 
copious well. The cost is absolutely nothing as 
compared with the resultant blessing. As I write 
I read of a drought in Texas. The writer says, 
"There are few wells hereabouts; and most of the 

[79] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



houses are built adjacent to streams." "Age," 
says an eminent physician, "is dryness and ossifi- 
cation. To remain young, drink water — pure 
and soft water. Judicious fasting, plentiful water- 
drinking, deep breathing, daily bathing, individual 
thinking, bring health, beauty and success." I 
shall feel that my book has failed of a chief end, 
if it do not quicken in you a resolve that, whatever 
else you deny yourself and your family, you will 
make sure of a deep, unfailing supply of pure 
water. 



[80] 



CHAPTER FIVE 
LAWNS AND SHRUBBERIES 



1 HE creation of a beautiful lawn is the work of 
an artist. If you have culture yourself, it will find 
shape and expression without trouble in lovely 
grass plots, and in the grouping of trees and shrubs. 
You must never get very far from nature; that is, 
you must not adopt artifice and artificial arrange- 
ments that bring you into contrast sharply with 
natural grouping. The first thing to do is to lay 
out a drive. If you have secured an old home- 
stead with trees, the drives must adjust themselves 
to whatever is in the way. Fashion just now has a 
whim for straight paths; but common sense and 
good taste place the entrance or entrances of your 
place where they will allow an approach to the 
house, very nearly as you would stroll in if there 
were no roads at all. In this way the drives would 
probably start not far from the corners, and would 
curve about your shrubs and trees; and at every 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapteh 



point they would give you a view of your house, 
and of your property so far as possible; and they 
would pick up beautiful outlooks in the valley be- 
low, or into some adjacent or distant landscape. 
A group of shrubs will cause a bend in the road ; 
then you pass through a grove possibly, under an 
old linden, or around a Kentucky coffee tree with 
its strange armlets drooping down almost to the 
ground. 

I do not argue that a poor man should trace out 
long drives and make picturesqueness the domin- 
ant idea in creating a country homestead. Yet the 
poorest resident in the country cannot afford to 
omit a regard for the beautiful. In the long run 
the cheapest place gains in money value by having 
sacrificed a little in the way of making things pleas- 
ant to the eye. "Well, sor," says a neighbor from 
Erin, "says I to Margaret, 'I'll not say but the pig 
will have as good digestion a little out of the sight 
of the people, and a few roses in his place.' And 
Margaret, says she, ' I've a feeling we needn't make 
ourselves conspicuous for weeds and frog holes.' So 
betwixt us we just imitated the fine places upon the 
hill; and, sor, now we can think beautiful things 
ourselves." My Irish friend hit the mark pre- 

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FIVE] LAWNS AND SHRUBBERIES 



cisely. The educative force of a beautiful place, 
or an effort at creating a beautiful home, is very 
great and constant. The influence is interactive 
— always so. You become admirable by admir- 
able deeds; and beautiful by planting beautiful 
things. This is really the object and end of this 
whole di'ift toward the country. We wish to get 
out of the city in order to plant fine ideas in the soil. 
It pays to make our roads well at the outset. It 
almost always occurs that in any neighborhood 
there is some specific material peculiarly adapted 
to making roads. My own drives were first thor- 
oughly drained with six-inch pipes — nothing else 
wUl do on a hillside. When a flush of water comes 
it must be carried away with rapidity. These 
pipes lie about eighteen inches under the surface, 
and wind their way with the drives, until they come 
together in a larger drain, and thence into-the high- 
way. It needs considerable study and watching 
of the work of showers to determine just where a 
little additional work shall be done in the way of 
surface drainage. You can soon determine just 
about where these cross-cuts and side-cuts are nec- 
essary. They should catch the water before it 
accumulates, and throw it to one side, or into the 

[83] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



pipes. In this section I find no better material 
than furnace slag for a basis ; and over this a thick 
dressing of red shale. This sort of material, of 
course, cannot be secured everywhere. But where 
it cannot be obtained, there is either a deposit of 
gravel within reach, or possibly coarse sand, which 
can be laid over broken stone. At all events, do 
not be stingy in the way of making your drives sure 
and solid at the outset. Otherwise they will soon 
be broken up, and make you continuous trouble. 
I have a length of private drives far longer than is 
needful for many country homesteads, but I find 
no difficulty in keeping them in excellent condition 
by top dressing once in six or eight years. The 
slag will hold good for almost any length of time. 
Like all other road-making, the secret lies in watch- 
fulness; neglect for a few weeks will render your 
drives very much like our common highways, a 
complication of ruts and puddles. I imagine that 
a good private driveway becomes an example for 
the public road commissioner. It will be neces- 
sary to go over these drives about once a month, to 
remove any litter and to hoe out grass and weeds. 
Drives should not be indulged in at all unless they 
can be kept tidy. I find a few of my neighbors are 

[84] 



fht:] lawns and SHRUBBERIES 



inclined to consider drives and walks so distinct, 
that the driveway for wagons is not allowed to pass 
around the house. I am inclined to think that our 
best way is to have good, broad drives, passing en- 
tirely around the house, and thence to the barn. 
Hedges I shall speak of in another chapter, and 
refer to them here as often finding their best serv- 
ice in bordering a driveway. 

As a rule, the front lawn should not be given to 
flowers, although occasionally it may be a shrubbery. 
But if you are the owner of four or five acres, or 
more, it will be better to have a tree lawn between 
you and the street. Reach your shrubbery and 
your flowers where there is a degree of privacy. 
We certainly are not going into the country to hide 
ourselves, or to have all our enjoyments to our- 
selves alone; but we do desire, and we do need, a 
retreat from publicity. When we get off the front 
door-step of city life we do not intend to become 
squatters along the roadside of the country. But 
multiply your retreats as you may, you will find 
abundant opportunities to invite your chosen 
friends to sit with you in rustic seats under your 
apple trees, or to walk with you among your floral 
pets. With walks and drives rightly adjusted, a 

[85] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



ten-acre homestead may easily have devoted an 
acre, or even two acres, to selected trees, either at 
the front of the house or flanking the front. An 
English homestead is generally open toward the 
street, while the drives approach through border- 
ing shrubbery, or under trees. Our American 
landscape, with more slopes and hills, gives us 
greater opportunities for broader views over val- 
leys, so that a street front is not so essential. If 
you have but two or three acres, or if you are a 
truck farmer, needing economy in the use of land, 
still plant a half-dozen fine trees before your cot- 
tage — a beech grove, perhaps, or a group of lin- 
dens, or a grove of maples. An orchard neatly 
kept is just the thing; only, I am afraid, it will 
sadly fail of proper care. The awful neglect and 
the abuse that apple trees undergo make it dan- 
gerous to recommend them for a front lawn. 

The laying out of a tree lawn must not be al- 
lowed to depend altogether on your taste, for it is 
this laying out of your home that is going to create 
a better taste. Especially do not mistake a mere 
greedy desire for trees as a safe guide. There are 
really no sights in America more unpleasant than 
the front lawns of our average country homes. 

[86] 



FIVE] LAWNS AND SHRUBBERIES 



Odd trees and weeping trees are made conspicu- 
ous, and then made more disagreeable by multi- 
plicity. Evergreens are made monstrous by shear- 
ing, and these are thrust into the eye of the public 
in rows. Evergreens should almost never be plant- 
ed in rows — never except for windbreaks, or a 
possible avenue. 

A maple grove is a delight always — provided you 
understand the maple characteristics. Most peo- 
ple, utterly fail to grow sound and clean maple 
trees. It is a tree that must be well fed with soil 
humus ; and the bark must not be exposed, by care- 
less trimming, to the sun. Better by all odds than 
the sugar maple, for a lawn, is the Norway. This 
is the very ideal of all lawn and shade trees. Its 
growth is nearly one-third more rapid than any 
other maple, and its milky, acrid juice prevents it 
from being acceptable food for worms. I do not 
think I ever saw one in any way defoliated or in- 
jured by insects. It is, however, susceptible to 
winter blisters. The water maple is another glor- 
ious affair ; and if you will take a little care, you can 
get specimens fully equal to the most superb Japan- 
ese maples. For myself I love the beech, either in 
a grove or as a single tree. Very unique and very 

[87] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



\ 



charming is the Kentucky coffee tree. The male 
combines a drooping form with fine spread of 
limbs and elegant foliage. I know of no insects 
that ever assail it. Elms must be planted only 
where you have abundant room for their full ex- 
pansion — not less than a diameter of a hundred 
feet. A white elm is intensely individualized. It 
is itself, to the finger-tips of every limb. It has no 
desire for coperation, and it does not like close 
neighborhood. The red elm is unfit for lawns, 
because it is in a stage of indecision in its evolu- 
tion — not quite willing or ready to spread out its 
limbs low down, and not quite ready to lift them 
aloft like a white elm. The cork barked elm 
can be found very generally in the New England 
States and New York, and is fine for a small lawn. 
This tree also does not like to be crowded. The 
cork barked maple is peculiarly suited to small 
lawns, having a very round head, not exceeding 
twenty feet in diameter — rarely that. 

Among our native trees, I know of few that for 
general planting are preferable to the magnolia 
acuminata — a thoroughly hardy tree, growing as 
erect as an arrow could be shot. This tree holds 
its arm in a fine curve, without the least drooping. 

[88] 



FIVE] LAWNS AND SHRUBBERIES 



The sassafras is another tree adapted to small 
lawns; and in addition to those named, what can 
be finer than the catalpa ? Some of the crossbred 
varieties do not attain a very great height, and can 
therefore be used where space is limited. Mr. 
Teas has introduced a fine purple-leaved sort that 
is remarkably beautiful, both in blossom and in 
leaf. Our hardy native catalpa is suitable for 
large lawns, either for single trees or in groups. 
Other small lawn trees are the salisburia or ginkgo 
— a very unique representative of vegetation that 
covered the earth before our deciduous trees. I 
myself admire very much the foliage and the 
growth of the persimmon. It is entirely hardy as 
far north as Canada; growing 30 to 40 feet high, 
and bearing great loads of golden fruit that, if not 
picked, make the tree conspicuous all winter. 

Yet when all has been said and done, we have 
two native trees that surpass everything else for 
roomy lawns and avenues — everything excepting 
the Norway maple; I refer to the white elm and 
the linden or basswood. I should plant the bass- 
wood partly because of its noble foliage, and partly 
because of its delicious flowers. It is the great 
honey tree of the world. The linden has this 

[89] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



admirable quality, that if bruised in the bark it will 
readily heal over; while the maple is almost sure to 
spread decay at damaged points. 

I append a list of what I conceive to be the twen- 
ty-five best lawn trees: The white elm, the Hunt- 
ington elm, the white ash, the native beech, the 
double red-flowered horse chestnut, the native lin- 
den, the Norway maple, the Wiers cut-leaved 
maple, the sugar maple; the swamp or water maple, 
magnolia acuminata, the American white oak, the 
macrocarpa or burr oak, the tulip tree; adding to 
these for evergreens the Norway spruce, the Amer- 
ican arbor-vitae, the white pine, the Scotch pine, 
the hemlock; and for nut trees adding the butter- 
nut, the hickorynut, the walnut, and the chestnut. 

A good list for a small lawn might be made out 
of the following : the cut-leaved weeping birch, the 
purple-leaved beech, our native bird cherries, the 
double-flowered cherry, the double rose-flowered 
crabapple, the Camperdown weeping elm, the 
mountain ash. To these may be added the double- 
flowered peach, the double scarlet thorn, the rose- 
mary-leaved willow, the magnolias Soulangeana 
and tripetela, Wiers cut-leaved weeping maple, 
the Japanese maples, and the Russian maples. 

[90] 



FIVE] LAWNS AND SHRUBBERIES 



Where only one very choice tree is needed, some 
consideration must be made of what is wanted of 
the tree. There is no more homeful tree than the 
common butternut. One of these planted near 
the house will reach out its huge arms and shake 
down bags of nuts ; adding very much to household 
good cheer, and to the children's happiness. It is 
a hardy, long-lived tree, but it hates neighbors. If 
crowded, the limbs will die, while underneath and 
about the roots almost nothing will grow. It is a 
curious fact, however, that there are friendships in 
vegetation. The wild cherry will nestle very closely 
to the butternut, and thrive; but an apple tree or 
a pear tree positively refuses the association, while 
vegetables and corn sustain the same prejudice. 
Another tree for single planting is our magnificent 
weeping white elm. This, as I have already said, 
needs room, and abundance of it. It should be 
trimmed up when young, until it gets its lofty out- 
look and sweep of limbs. The Norway maple is, 
if given abundance of room, one of the most mag- 
nificent trees for single planting that I know. Its 
foliage is dense enough to make it a fine resort in 
midsummer, and in autumn its color is unequaled. 
A single white oak will also make a lawn by itself. 

[91] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



One white cut-leaved birch is admirable near the 
house, but do not be tempted to plant two or three 
of these unique trees in juxtaposition. I have a 
golden poplar which I highly esteem as a remark- 
able tree for color, and for close proximity to the 
house; but for shade it is not eminently good. Pos- 
sibly, however, we have not one tree for single 
planting more complete, when we estimate both 
foliage and flowers, than the catalpa speciosa. 

I am strongly tempted to go somewhat beyond 
the restrictions of this chapter and give you a list 
of trees much longer, including many that are sel- 
dom seen about our country homes, but that well 
might be planted. I shall content myself with 
naming a very short list of choice trees, from which 
a selection may be made. There are several vari- 
eties of the Norway maple — all of them exceedingly 
beautiful. I think the best of these is Schwedler's, 
which differs from the common sort in the purplish 
green of its older leaves, following a crimson shade. 
The European alder is a remarkably rapid grow- 
ing tree, with roundish foliage, and adapted to 
moist positions. The hybrid catalpas I cannot 
recommend too strongly, both on account of their 
superb foliage a.nd equally fine flower. The golden- 

[92] 



FIVE] LAWNS AND SHRUBBERIES 



leaved and the purple-leaved are hybrids not to 
be overlooked. The weeping beech is a very pic- 
turesque tree, with spreading and tortuous limbs 
— the foliage very beautiful. The virgilia lutea, 
or yellowwood, is one of the finest American trees. 
It gives us a round head, of light green-shaded 
foliage, turning to a warm yellow in autumn. In 
June it is covered with pea-shaped flowers, hanging 
in long racemes. This tree belongs in your small 
lawn list, as it rarely reaches a height of more than 
twenty feet. The gleditschia, or honey locust, is 
a rapid growing tree, with exquisite foliage; but I 
cannot recommend it unless you are able to secure 
the thornless variety. Another good small lawn 
tree is Koelreuteria paniculata — a Chinese tree 
with a small round head, covered in July with gold- 
en flowers. In the Southern States, of course, our 
list of magnolias may be considerably enlarged. 
Be sure that this tree is never moved in the au- 
tumn. The tulip tree, or whitewood, is a magnificent 
tree found in our Western States, and fully equal 
to magnolia acuminata — with the single exception 
that the growth is more easily made one-sided 
and defective. The negundo maple or box elder 
is another native tree of attractive habit and rapid 

[93] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



growth. It has leaves Hke the ash, but its seeds 
class it among the maples. The paulownia, or 
empress tree, is a superb importation from Japan. 
Its flower buds are sometimes killed, but otherwise 
it is able to endure our severest winters. The 
leaves are twelve to fourteen inches across. In 
some parts of the country the buckeye, or Ohio 
horse-chestnut, is indispensable. It is much larger 
than the ordinary horse-chestnut, and its leaves 
are smoother. The nuts are an attractive feature of 
this tree. Most of the poplars are a nuisance on a 
lawn, but the Lombardy has its place, especially 
on high points. It is also useful for windbreaks. 
Reaching its steeplelike limbs straight upward, it 
can be planted in close, hedge-like rows. The list 
of good oaks is very long. The scarlet oak and the 
pin oak are two of the very best. Several of the 
willows are meritorious, because of their early blos- 
soming or their golden or silvery foliage. The 
royal willow and the golden willow and the laurel- 
leaved are three of the best. On a small lawn the 
Kilmarnock weeping willow is not out of place, if 
not too conspicuous. Of the lindens, the Euro- 
pean white-leaved, from Hungary, is a superb tree 
in all ways. It is notable for its whitish color, its 

[94] 



five] lawns and shrubberies 



perfect form and its acuminate leaves. The fern- 
leaved linden is also an elegant tree. The common 
European linden grows to a large size, with large 
leaves and fragrant flowers. The list of choice 
elms is also very long, and full of attractive trees. 
The English elm is very spreading, and with smaller 
leaves than our American. The nettle-leaved elm 
is a very curious tree, with some claims to general 
planting. 

We now turn to the shrubbery. I know that at 
the outset most of my readers will be unprepared 
to follow me when I recommend giving to shrubs 
a large space. They will yield about a flower gar- 
den, but that there should be a half acre or more 
of blossoming shrubs they cannot believe essential. 
But watch nature, and observe that she plants her 
hillsides not only with groups of trees, but with 
great patches of bushes; and these are really the 
glory of the successive seasons. While I write I 
look over the valley, and see plains of sumac — 
slopes of half an acre each that blaze with it. Then 
all up and down the sides of the creek run a shrub- 
bery of elder bushes, twisted and twined with bit- 
tersweet, and grape vines full of huge clusters 
of purple berries. All above these hang willow 

[95] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



limbs, which are also fringed with great masses of 
the yellow berries of the bittersweet, and clusters 
of white clematis seeds. A little while ago a group 
of red-fruited wild cherries stood out in rich relief 
on a knoll in the valley ; but now the birds have eat- 
en the cherries, and are chattering and feasting to- 
day in a half-dozen mountain ash trees that fill a 
hollow near the mill. Our home world is wonder- 
fully supplied with blossoming shrubs; and I never 
discovered half of them until I began to make a 
collection. 

I recommend the following, that you will find 
generally wild about New England and the Middle 
States — the barberries; the dogwoods, in five or 
six varieties ; the wild plums and the wild cherries ; 
the elder, the filbert, and the rubus in variety. Be- 
sides these the thorns are, many of them, exceed- 
ingly beautiful, and the double ones as well as single 
ones have found their way into the woods. The 
Tartarian honeysuckles are naturalized over quite 
an extent of territory, and many of the spireas that 
are scattered everywhere are beautiful indeed. For 
early Spring bloom the ribes in variety are very 
fine; also the mahonia, a native evergreen shrub. 
The fly honeysuckle and the rock maple are found 

[96] 



five] lawns and shrubberies 

over a large extent of territory. The euonymous, 
more common in the West, is also found in the East 
in wet localities; while the high-bush cranberry is 
one of the grandest ornaments of a dozen states. 
The Judas tree, another Western shrub, can be 
grown everywhere in our lawns. Cornus mascula, 
cornus paniculata, and cornus florida constitute 
three of the best of the dogwoods. The pawpaw 
is as beautiful for the shrubbery as it is excellent 
for fruit. It likes moist soil, but can be grown on 
high soil by mulching. Of course we have nothing 
finer than the laurels and rhododendrons, where 
they can be grown. In the Southern States the 
Stuartia pentagynia is a superb plant. Among our 
wild plums should be included the purple-leaved. 
Every section of the country has, beside those 
named, a choice assortment of bushes which will 
adjust themselves to lawn growth. In this section 
I find the hazel bush to be exceedingly beautiful in 
October, and the hopple bush — a hydrangea-like 
shrub — is delightful in midsummer. The latter is 
diflScult to transplant, requiring mucky soil and 
partial shade. 

The whole world has been ransacked to add to 
our list the beautiful shrubs that nature has given 

[97] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



to other lands. Our mothers, of seventy- five years 
ago, had only the common lilac and the white. To 
these we can now add a collection of at least fifty 
grand, new sorts — a list constantly increasing. 
Among the best of these, and most easily obtained, 
are the following: Josiksea, a Hungarian produc- 
tion with a tree-like growth, and dark, shining 
leaves; it blossoms after the more common sorts. 
The Persian lilacs, both purple and white, have 
smaller foliage and more delicate branches, covered 
with superb masses of flowers. These varieties are 
entirely hardy, and should be in every one's garden 
or shrubbery. The cserulea, or blue lilac, is an- 
other fine sort; as is also Charles X, with its stout 
limbs and its heavy, red clusters. Princess Alex- 
andra is one of the largest white-flowered; and 
Marie Legraye is another white sort, carrying mag- 
nificent panicles. Among the newer sorts of very 
fine quality, and now easily obtained at a small 
cost, are Jean Bart, a double variety with rosy, car- 
mine flowers ; Frau Dammann, a single white with 
very large clusters; Leon Simon, another double, 
with bluish crimson flowers; Ludwig Spaeth, with 
immensely long panicles, and each single flower 
very large, with reddish purple hue; President 

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I 



FIVE] LAWNS AND SHRUBBERIES 



Grevy, a beautiful blue, with very large and very 
double individual flowers, measuring three-quar- 
ters of an inch in diameter. This is one of the 
finest of all the lilacs. Michael Buchner is a dwarf, 
bushy variety, with very double pale flowers of a 
delicate lilac hue. This list does not include one- 
half of the really choice new lilacs. 

Another of the old-fashioned flowers is the sy- 
ringa or mock orange. The newer varieties num- 
ber at least twenty-five, and are all the way from 
bushes of two feet to twelve feet in height. A good 
collection covers a long season, of not less than two 
months. One of the dwarf varieties is double, and 
the flowers are rosettes, equal to white roses — 
but they are sparsely borne. Three or four of the 
choicest are the grandiflorus, with very large flow- 
ers; the nivalis, with cream-colored stamens; the 
Gordon, which has very profuse flowers very late 
in the season. The golden-leaved syringa is a 
small growing bush, with golden yellow foliage; 
and the willow-leaved has leaves curled at the 
edges; while the downy-leaved has soft, satin-like 
leaves. 

The old-fashioned hydrangea, which our moth- 
ers grew in tubs, has been supplemented by the 

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LorJ. 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



oak-leaved, a very hardy native bush with leaves 
like the oak; and the paniculata grandiflora — a 
magnificent shrub when well grown, with huge 
bunches of white flowers a foot in diameter. These 
are produced in August and September, when very 
few shrubs are in flower. For this period of the 
year one should also have a good collection of 
altheas — sometimes known as Rose of Sharon. 
Nearly all the varieties are entirely hardy, but they 
may require a little protection until two or three 
years of age. It must be borne in mind that all 
shrubs, like all trees, are more tender when young 
than after a few years of growth has ripened the 
wood. I find, however, that one of the handsom- 
est of the altheas, a double variegated sort, is sus- 
ceptible to freezing after it has become matured. 
Among the more beautiful varieties are the single 
purple, the double red, the variegated-leaved, and 
the painted lady. One variety of the double fails 
to expand its flowers, but it is all the more inter- 
esting because its buds, instead of opening, become 
large and solid masses, fruit-like. The flowers of 
the althea remain open but one day, but the suc- 
cession is continuous, covering the whole bush with 
a mass of bloom for six weeks. 

[ 100 ] 



five] lawns and shrubberies 



For your convenient reference I append a list of 
what appears to me to be twenty-five of the best 
shrubs for general planting. Altheas in variety; 
barberry; deutzia in variety; dogwood in variety; 
euonymous, American and European; Tartarian 
honeysuckle in variety ; hydrangea paniculata 
grandiflora; lilac in variety; prunus triloba; Japan- 
quince in variety; purple fringe ; ribesaureum; spi- 
rea in variety ; syringa in variety ; viburnum in var- 
iety; weigela in variety; elder; forsythia; exochorda; 
Chinese privet; dwarf horse-chestnut. To these 
add, according to locality, for evergreen, mountain 
laurel, rhododendron, mahonia, and box. 

In the arrangement of shrubs, as of trees, we 
must remember that we are planting for the whole 
year, and not to have something in the spring or 
for midsummer only. It is not difficult to so ar- 
range our shrubbery as to modify the dullness of 
winter, as well as the warmth of summer. I rec- 
ommend you to plant very freely of the barberries 
and the high-bush cranberry. These, with warm, 
red berries covering them all winter, make January 
comfortable at least to the eye. In March and 
April they draw the cedar birds and the pine gros- 
beaks — beautiful birds that are very companion- 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



able. They anticipate spring for at least a month 
before the hyacinths lift the soil — sometimes they 
are here all winter. I do not know a handsomer 
and better behaved bird than this pine grosbeak. 
If he drop a berry on the snow he gets down and 
picks it up — a touch of economy which the robin 
despises. The cedar bird would be more wel- 
come if he never extended his stay until cherry 
time. You can, however, afford to plant an extra 
tree or two especially for this cheerful visitor. You 
will hardly get too many barberries. Standing al- 
most anywhere about your lawns or near your barn, 
they give us a touch of brightness that no other bush 
equals. The high-bush cranberry has a tendency 
to top-heaviness and splitting down. Your best 
way will be to surround the limbs with a heavy wire 
— placing a piece of old rubber between wire and 
limb. 

In the arrangement of shrubs, as of trees, be- 
ware of the conventional. The Indians always 
planted their apple orchards in groves, instead of 
in rows. From the standpoint of beauty they were 
correct. Rows are made essentially only to allow 
the plow to cultivate the soil. A few hints in plant- 
ting may be worth the while, but in general simply 

[ 102 ] 



Fi\E] LAWNS AND SHRUBBERIES 



try to follow nature's methods. (1) Rows are al- 
ways to be avoided, except for windbreaks, and for 
bordering straight drives. (2) Shrubs that have 
poor outlines when standing alone should be group- 
ed. (3) Do not repeat the same effect in your 
grouping, but seek variety. (4) Each group of 
shrubs should bring out, if possible, a succession of 
bloom. (5) Low-growing shrubs should stand in 
front of the taller. (6) Avoid fancy grouping and 
geometrical outlines. (7) Walks should not go 
anywhere or nowhere, but somewhere; and if they 
bend they should be bent around something. (8) 
When you get through planting, the effect should be 
that all parts fit together — as the parts of a group 
create a single whole. Your shrubbery and your 
lawn should not be so individualized as not to fit 
together, and then bear no natural association 
with your gardens and orchards. 

The aim of this book is everywhere to steer clear 
of pettiness and small local effects, in favor of gen- 
eral and unified beauty and utility. For this reas- 
on we have nothing but disapproval for those lawns 
that involve fussiness and cost, and therefore are 
without adequate compensation. We should not 
indulge in little show lawns or in trifling lawns, 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



which belong nowhere but in the city — where even 
a spire of orchard grass dare not swing its blos- 
soms alongside a daisy. I am told by a govern- 
ment expert, in one of his reports, that "a good 
lawn demands great skill and judgment in its mak- 
ing, as well as in its maintenance. The chief charm 
of a lawn consists in an even stand of grass, of uni- 
form color, kept closely mown." This is pure 
humbug. A large country place, or a country 
place of only two or three acres does not call for 
any such sort of lawn. Grasses are nearly all 
beautiful — in blossom as well as when sheared close 
to the ground. A country lawn mowed three or 
four times a year is satisfactory and fits to the coun- 
try; but a little piece of grass plot, over which the 
lawn-mower is rattled all summer, is neither ap- 
propriate nor satisfactory. I sincerely recommend 
that you abolish these intolerable machines alto- 
gether. They have no natural use about a coun- 
try home. Once more, quoting from my expert 
authority, I am told that "in order to secure a per- 
fect lawn we must use a pure grass, such as Ken- 
tucky blue grass, or the mixture must be so per- 
fectly made from grasses of like habit of growth 
and of coloring, that a mottled effect will be avoid- 

[104] 



five] lawns and shrubberies 



ed." Pray tell me why a mottled appearance on a 
lawn is to be reprehended ? And tell me, further, 
why nature never found this out ? She mottles 
things without shame or apparently the least 
thought of making a blunder. The educated eye 
finds nothing in the country more beautiful than 
the variegation of color. No two trees on our 
lawns are shaded the same green. Shall we under- 
take to eliminate all but one color.? Shall we re- 
fuse to allow a maple to stand beside an oak, or in 
autumn shall we forbid the crimson and the gold 
to mingle with the green } It is very vital for us to 
get rid of these false notions of natural beauty. A 
bit of undandelioned grass plot, dug at, picked at, 
and fussed over, will do in a city or village ; but on 
a true country homestead let nature laugh and 
play and have her own way. 



[105] 



CHAPTER SIX 
WINDBREAKS AND HEDGES 



1 HERE is no one subject more important in every 
case of establishing a country home than planting 
of windbreaks. We can greatly modify climate, 
and, what is more important, can break the force 
of windstorms by such provisions as I shall de- 
scribe. It is not always possible to secure a home 
under a western protected slope; and even when it 
is possible, the wind will sometimes inflict injury. 
A strong growth of arbor-vitse or hemlock, or of 
some deciduous tree of close growth, like beech or 
linden, is sometimes a necessity, and always an ad- 
vantage. This subject has not yet received any- 
thing like enough consideration among farmers 
and residents in the country. Nature always at- 
tends to it promptly. Along fence lines, or where- 
ever she pleases to work, she starts a growth of bird- 
sown trees and shrubs — abundantly of wild cherry 
and mountain .ash. To them the wind adds its 




NOTHING IS MORE IMPOHIAM lllA.N PLAMIXG \UM)iilii.AK 



WINDBREAKS AND HEDGES 

contribution of ash, maple, and elm seeds. These 
make rapid growth, of a miscellaneous but gener- 
ally beautiful character. Elder bushes, dogwood, 
and many other beautiful wild bushes form fringes ; 
and grapes with bittersweet and clematis climb and 
festoon them. The wise farmer understands the 
value of these buttresses against storms, and does 
not cut them ; but the man who makes a clean sweep 
counts them rubbish, and roots them out. He will 
suffer for it in a decreased crop, in unbalanced tem- 
perature, and in broken trees. 

The artificial windbreak is a very tall hedge, or 
it is a close row of trees. A strip of natural wood- 
land will serve the same purpose, if the owner takes 
pains to cultivate it, trim it, and prevent destruc- 
tion. The extensive farmer can do nothing wiser 
than to plant one acre out of every ten to forest 
trees. The result of needless forest destruction 
carried on through the nineteenth century has 
made our summers hotter and dryer, and our win- 
ters not colder, but liable to excessive extremes. 
Our smaller homesteads, however, suffer quite as 
sadly from the unbroken storm as do the larger 
farms. The sweeping wind bears away the mois- 
ture of the soil, and dries up the plants. It snaps 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



off well-loaded fruit limbs, and breaks down petted 
lawn trees. 

Among the best large trees for windbreaks, on 
or around the country home, are the lindens; be- 
cause, while close-growing and big-leaved, they also 
furnish vast stores of honey for the bees. I fre- 
quently recommend this tree, especially our com- 
mon native basswood, to my friends, because of its 
honey value alone. As we shall see in Chapter 
Thirteen, bees are essential to fruit growing, be- 
sides furnishing to us a very important share of 
wholesome food. A row of twenty or thirty lindens 
will give these active friends the best of all pastures. 
The foliage of the linden is delightful for beauty 
and for shade ; and the tree is absolutely hardy and 
healthy. Beech trees are also very stout and very 
compact, so much so that nothing can be better for 
windbreaks. They grow more slowly than lindens, 
but when they are grown, they also contribute for 
our pleasure a liberal supply of nuts. I have a 
warm affection for a beech tree. I wish I might 
see them planted as freely as they once grew wild 
in the days of my childhood. Norway maples 
make a superb windbreak, and sugar maples also 
make a fine stand against storms, if they are kept 

rio8] 



six] windbreaks and hedges 

healthy; but, if hacked with saw and axe, they soon 
become diseased, and the homes of pestiferous in- 
sects ; they are then brittle before the wind. 

Another economic windbreak may be made of 
apple trees. When there is only one row these 
can be planted as close as twenty feet. Care 
must be taken, however, in selecting tough- wooded 
sorts. Most of our seedlings are not easily broken, 
but Baldwins and Roxbury Russets would soon 
become a mass of brushwood. The Wealthy, the 
Duchess, the Golden Russet, the Mcintosh, and 
nearly all apples of the Pippin family, especially the 
White Pippin, will stand firm, and bear heavy loads 
of fruit. You will, however, have to keep out suck- 
ers and look out for borers, exactly as you wouid in 
an orchard. Crab apples are especially adaptable 
for making these protective walls, and they are very 
useful for fruitage. Set them about fifteen feet 
apart in a row. Let all apple trees, crabs included, 
branch out four or five feet from the ground. They 
will then bend down enough, with the first load of 
fruit, to make the wall close and compact. A 
hedge of Martha, Florence, or Whitney crab will 
be glorious in blossom, and especially glorious in 
fruit. 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



But for small places I do not know of a wind- 
break better than can be made of the Buffam pear. 
This tree grows like the Lombardy poplar, erect, 
stiff, and tough-wooded. It is so compact that you 
may set the trees eight or ten feet apart, and so 
make almost a solid wall. The fruit is only med- 
ium-sized, and so near to the wild fruit in its tem- 
per, that it bears enormous crops ; and those in the 
shade are nearly as good as those in the sun. Not 
a high-grade dessert fruit, it is not insignificant for 
canning and jellies, and is particularly excellent 
for pickling. Another point not to be overlooked 
is the glory of a Buffam hedge in autumn. In Oc- 
tober no other pear is so superbly colored with 
crimson and gold. The Sheldon pear makes a 
good windbreak, but the wood is brittle. The 
Anjou is one of the best, on account of its compact 
growth. 

For a low-growing windbreak nothing is more 
cheery than a row of dwarf apples, standing close 
in a row. Among the best varieties for this pur- 
pose are the Astrachan, the Salome, the Porter, the 
Gravenstein, the Summer Rose, the Hubbardston, 
the Ingram, the Golden Russet, and the Tolman 
Sweet. All of these varieties will give you excel- 

[110] 



SIX] WINDBREAKS AND HEDGES 

lent apples, and will not take up too much space. 
The demand for crab apples is so greatly on the in- 
crease that a hedge of dwarf crabs might be spec- 
ially profitable. 

However, our best resort against severe winds, 
and our best ally against a hard climate, are ever- 
greens. These trees, which represent a vegeta- 
tion antedating our deciduous trees, are still of im- 
mense importance to us. Get behind a large Nor- 
way spruce on a windy November day, or behind a 
good arbor-vitse hedge, and you will be able to de- 
termine their value in modifying the climate. For 
this section, and generally through the Northern 
States, the American and the Siberian arbor-vitses 
are the best for general planting. The white pine 
is an evergreen that takes heartily to our Northern 
homes, and is beautiful almost beyond comparison. 
The hemlock is another native, of close growth 
and elegant foliage, and when properly trimmed is 
one of the very best for hedges and windbreaks. 
For hedges I prefer the arbor-vitse, and have hedges 
of this admirable cedar that are more than fifty 
years in growth, and without a breach. The Nor- 
way spruce ranks very high, not only for ornamen- 
tal hedges, but for strong windbreaks. The trees, 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



however, should stand at least twenty-five feet 
apart, and be allowed to develop individual 
strength. Do not trim up any of these trees, but 
let them set flat on the ground. The arbor-vitse 
and the hemlock can be planted more closely, so 
that the limbs interlock, as in a low hedge. Select, 
as a rule, an evergreen which is native to your own 
section, and can be obtained for the digging. In 
New Hampshire and Maine I should take the 
white pine. What magnificent windbreaks has 
nature made of these trees, on the farms which 
touch the mountains of the Granite State. 

Among other less common but really excellent 
evergreens for our purposes are: (1) The golden 
arbor-vitse. This variety is of Chinese origin, and 
is very beautiful with its yellowish-green foliage. 
I do not think it quite hardy north of New York. 
(2) Two small growing varieties of arbor-vitse with 
foliage golden and beautiful, are the Hovey and the 
George Peabody. (3) The retinosporas are all 
excellent, but two of them make beautiful bushes 
or small trees, with rich golden color and a plume- 
like foliage. These are retinospora plumosa aurea 
and the gracilis aurea. (4) Among the most up- 
right growing evergreens there are some fine ones; 

[112] 



SIX] WINDBREAKS AND HEDGES 



like pyramidalis arbor-vitse, which resembles the 
Irish juniper when seen at a distance, but is hardier 
and more useful. This tree is one of the best for 
small homesteads. It ought to be planted not 
only for windbreaks, but for contrasts on our 
lawns. (5) The junipers, both the Swedish and 
the Irish, are exceedingly fine erect-growing ever- 
greens for medium-sized hedges. The Irish vari- 
ety stands from ten to fifteen feet high. (6) In the 
Southern States the Irish yew and the English yew 
can be planted to great advantage. The varie- 
gated yew is edged with golden yellow. (7) 
Among the large and stronger-growing evergreens, 
two of the best for screens and windbreaks are the 
Austrian and the Scotch pine. (8) The Siberian 
arbor-vitse must not be overlooked. It closely re- 
sembles the common variety, only that its foliage 
grows cultriform; that is, perpendicular instead of 
horizontal. It bears trimming admirably. 

In the Western States we generally speak of 
windbreaks as farm-shelter belts. There they 
should be thick and strong, to meet the broader 
sweep of the winds. Cottonwood and poplar and 
willow serve a good purpose on large homesteads; 
but smaller homes should confine themselves to 

[113] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



poplars, pears, apples, and evergreens. Bear in 
mind that the pear is hardier and longer-lived than 
the apple — with the same amount of care. Mr. 
L. B. Pierce, a first-class horticulturist of Ohio, 
says, "It seems strange to me that so many of our 
Western farmers get along, year after year, without 
windbreaks. My place is warmer than many 
others because of the evergreens, which have been 
planted twelve to sixteen years. Northwest of 
my house is a row of Norway spruce. Last year I 
thinned them out, and found some thirty-four feet 
high. I set them originally six feet apart, and took 
out every other tree to sell. I have a little wind- 
break to protect my kitchen, and the snow goes off 
there some days before it does anywhere else. It 
makes an excellent shelter for the yard and the 
house. I know men who have six-foot fences 
around their barn lots, where arbor-vitse would 
serve just as well, and last for thirty years. If it 
grows too fast at the bottom you may remove some 
branches. The bottom ought to be at least four 
feet wide, or the lower branches will die. Put your 
protection on the northwest of the house, or even 
an orchard placed there will be a protection, and 
keep out a good deal of cold." Another Ohio 

[114] 



SIX] WINDBREAKS AND HEDGES 



nurseryman, Mr. J. J. Harrison, says, " Many homes 
are almost desolate for want of common -sense pro- 
tection. We have screens in our nursery, and the 
difference between being behind them and outside 
of their protection is almost the difference between 
being chilled through and being by a fire. Most 
of the trees needed can be obtained by any one 
from a pasture lot or the edge of a forest." 

In some of the Western cities school-houses have 
been carefully protected by windbreaks. In Chi- 
cago some one has planted Irish junipers in boxes, 
and these are used for screens in school yards, as 
well as for an ornament. The idea has caught so 
that it is not seldo*m one may see these junipers 
standing around a kitchen door, or to conceal 
refuse piles. They have the advantage of being 
movable. 

Now you will wish to know more about strictly 
ornamental windbreaks. Among the shrubs, the 
Tartarian honeysuckle is incomparably the best. I 
have described this shrub more fully in another 
chapter. It is hardy, beautiful in flower, and more 
beautiful in berry. Best of all, it quickly renews 
a breach. This is a notable and very valuable 
peculiarity. There are three varieties, distin- 

[115] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



guished by red, white, and pink flowers. The white 
is the least rank grower ; and everywhere the pink- 
flowered is the strongest and best for hedge or 
windbreak. The exochorda grandiflora is a rare 
shrub, hard to propagate, but superb for our pur- 
pose. I wish it were vastly more common. The 
sassafras, cut back, is admirable ; and the mulberry 
is among the best. Beeches can be cut back and 
made into solid walls, if you choose. The Rivers 
purple-leaved beech naturally is very thick and 
close. 

In all cases it is well to select shrubs and trees 
that will furnish bird food, or bee food, or both. 
You cannot conceive, until seen, the amount of 
food furnished by a single tree of mountain ash. 
A windbreak of this tree would proclaim your resi- 
dence to be a bird paradise. Birds of passage 
seeing it would drop down for a breakfast ; and the 
fame of it would go out north and south, until you 
would every year have new varieties of birds — 
singing to you songs of cooperative love. The 
wild cherries are also valuable in the same way. 
The birds eat the red sorts in July, and the black 
ones in August and September. Nor do I see any 
reason why that beautiful bush, the elder - — which 

[116] 



SEX] WINDBREAKS AND HEDGES 



Horatio Seymour called the handsomest in Ameri- 
ca — shall not hide under the windbreak, and along 
fence rows — both for the berries that feed the birds 
and those that we ourselves consume. An elder- 
berry tart is a toothsome affair, even after we are 
seventy. 

A bee-house should have special shelter, and I 
advise a windbreak clear around the yard, or at 
least on two sides. If open to the wind at all, let 
it be on the south and east. Of course these pro- 
tective hedges should not be so high or so near the 
hives as to entirely exclude the sun. No orchard 
will do its best without a windbreak ; and this is par- 
ticularly true of a pear orchard. It often happens 
that a high wind in September strips the trees of half 
their crops — just before they are ready for harvest. 
I have had almost all the pears from exposed 
Anjous tumbled to the ground and rendered unfit 
for storage. It is a sad sight to one who has 
watched such a magnificent fruit develop all sum- 
mer, to find his Christmas pears snatched away 
from him, and flung, worthless, upon the ground. 
As a supplement to windbreaks of pears, I suggest 
spreading a good litter of soft grass or hay under 
the trees during the autumn months. 

[117] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

Hedges are low windbreaks; windbreaks are 
high hedges. Hedges along the street, or else- 
where, as fences, I do not admire or recommend. 
Fifty years ago there was a great wave of hedge 
planting. Everybody must have a hedge of osage 
orange; then the thorn trees came into popularity, 
and then the willow,' and the locust. Now there 
is hardly a good osage-orange hedge in the State of 
New York, and very few left in the Western States. 
Those that remain are ferocious and unmanageable. 
It is a serious task to undertake to trim an osage- 
orange hedge; and it is a more serious job to root 
out one that has got beyond trimming. The wil- 
low proved a fallacious fraud, and the hawthorn, so 
beautiful in England, suffers in the United States 
from our hot summers, and from the woolly aphis. 
The honey locust or gleditschia proved to be much 
better for hedging; and there are still scattered 
about the country many fairly good hedges of this 
plant. It is very handsome in foliage, but it is liable 
to be gnawed by mice in the winter and not seldom 
girdled. The thorns are very objectionable, and 
when they fall into the grass become dangerous. 
It is not safe to leave the trimmings in the pasture, 
or allow them to get into the hay from the meadow. 

[118] 



six] windbreaks and HEDGES 



But the very best deciduous hedge-fence has 
proved to be the buckthorn, or blackthorn. This 
plant is adaptable to shearing, and can easily be 
kept in bounds. It is ornamental, and if it gets too 
high, it can be cut down to the ground and started 
afresh — which you cannot do with an evergreen. 
If a fence is absolutely required, use wire or stone 
by preference; but for a hedge fence, use either 
buckthorn or gleditschia. There is a variety or 
spore of the latter, without thorns. If this can be 
secured in quantity, the hedge will be quite as solid 
and fully as protective as if made of the thorny 
sort. 

Beech and apple hedges will turn animals, but 
will be more or less eaten by them. This does not 
affect their value, but in the long run the growth is 
made more dense. In the West and Southwest 
the cockspur thorn is used very commonly and ef- 
fectually for strong hedges. I have seen such 
hedges grown over with wild grape vines; and in 
other places dewberries were loading them with 
fruit. 

While I would almost abandon hedge-fences, 
I would wish to see a greatly increased use of 
hedges for ornament, for shelters, for nooks, and for 

[119] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



bordering drives. For screens they should be used 
with great freedom. They break up extensive 
plots, forming pleasant retreats, diversifying the 
grounds, creating shady places for seats and ham- 
mocks, and hiding clothes-lines, hot beds, and 
compost piles. However, avoid the petty; be sure 
you do not cut up your lawns into meaningless bits. 
One purpose of ornamental hedges is to make a 
large display of some eminently beautiful shrub, 
such as lilac, or hydrangea paniculata grandiflora, 
or Japanese quince, or Tartarian honeysuckle. I 
never saw a farm that did not have some place 
which a hedge of Tartarian honeysuckle would not 
glorify, and at the same time be itself an object of 
conspicuous beauty. Some of our shrubs we can 
hardly have in excess if planted separately; as 
hedges they can be multiplied even more freely. 1 
have seen the Judas tree in April stretching out its 
long lines of rich, lilac-hued flowers along the rear 
of a garden; in another direction, a little later, Per- 
sian lilacs flaming all across a mound ; while, alter- 
nating with these, altheas would glorify the same 
mound with superb flowers in August and Sep- 
tember. "It is the finest thing I ever saw," said 
my friend; and the hired man held his hoe for a 

[120] 



SIX] WINDBREAKS AND HEDGES 



moment, and said, "Sir, it honors the world." A 
lilac hedge should consist of trees six or eight feet 
apart. The suckers should be kept out very clean- 
ly, or you will get few flowers and many stems. 
The barberry should front evergreens, to bring out 
the fine scarlet of its berries; as a hedge it is likely 
to multiply deadwood, and for that reason must 
be carefully trimmed twice a year. Set your hy- 
drangeas paniculata at least eight or ten feet apart, 
with weigelas alternating. The object, in all cases, 
is to secure a profusion of bloom through the early 
months, followed by as abundant flowers in the 
autumn. For instance, your lilacs blossom in May 
and June, while your altheas begin in August and 
continue till October. 

The time for planting evergreens is the same as 
that for deciduous trees. The notion that it was 
advisable to plant in August has been entirely 
dropped. Set your trees early in April, and plant 
precisely as you would deciduous trees — only with 
more precaution. Before digging your trees the 
trenches should have been already dug. Make 
these about three feet wide, and at least two in 
depth. Fill the bottom with loose earth, not too 
rich, and yet not solid clay. Saturate this dirt 

[121] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



with water; and when you have obtained your 
trees, wet the roots constantly as each one is set in 
its place. We call it puddling the roots, because 
we pour the water in until the ground is soaked. 
In digging and carrying evergreens, be sure that 
the roots are never exposed to the sun or the wind. 
As soon as out of the ground, wrap them with wet 
matting or with wet straw. If not planted as soon 
as dug, puddle the roots in a pond or brook. When 
you plant, draw out only one at a time. Evergreens, 
however, do not like to stand in wet soil — that is, 
most of them do not. The hemlock will grow in a 
swamp, but does much better on well-drained, high 
land. As soon as your windbreak or hedge is 
planted, mulch it. Use either coal ashes or saw- 
dust. Always bear in mind that barnyard manure 
must not come near the roots of fruit trees or ever- 
greens — or, for that matter, anything that you 
plant on your lawns. A top dressing of thoroughly 
decomposed manure will do no harm, but is not 
advisable. As soon as your tree is set, or sooner, 
if more convenient, cut back very sharply. Bring 
all the plants into shapeliness — removing from one- 
third to two-thirds of the wood. Your hedge will 
not be beautiful till after several years of careful 

[122] 



six] WINDBREAKS AND HEDGES 



trimming. If you will follow these hints carefully, 
you will hardly ever lose an evergreen bush or tree. 

Deciduous hedges need to be trimmed twice a 
year, first in April or May, and again in July or 
August. Cut, each time, as close as you can to the 
old wood, for the hedge will gradually gain in diam- 
eter in spite of trimming. One inch each year 
makes in ten years twenty inches more of spread; 
and if carelessly you leave three inches, your hedge 
will have widened, in the same space of time, sixty 
inches, or five feet. So you see there is danger that 
you will make a nuisance instead of an ornament. 
Evergreen hedges must, however, on no account be 
cut but once a year, and that once must be in 
March or April — just before the new growth. More 
harm is done to fine evergreen hedges by cutting 
them in the summer and autumn, than by all other 
causes combined. Again and again people ask, 
What is the matter with my arbor-vitse hedge, or 
my hemlock.? Inquiry shows that they have 
pruned in the summer, thus cutting away the new 
growth, which nature was preparing for winter 
protection. 

A hedge is ornamental, not only from the amount 
of shearing it gets, but sometimes from a modicum 

[123] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



of neglect. Most of our blossoming shrubs have 
an individuality of their own, and this must not be 
stripped away by the shears. To trim them all in 
straight lines would ruin the meaning of the plant. 
If you want a shrub that will stand either neglect 
or shearing, take Tartarian honeysuckle. Always 
mulch your hedges as soon as planted, and renew 
this mulch every year till the plants are thoroughly 
established. A convenient and excellent material 
is ashes from anthracite coal — that from bitumin- 
ous coal contains too much sulphur to be used 
freely. 

Hedge growers, while learning to abhor the mon- 
strous and misplaced, may make hedge-growing 
contribute to the general beauty of a place by such 
contrivances as living arbors, bowered seats, and 
arched walks. One of my living arbors, slightly 
dissociated from the hedge row, lifts its peak about 
twenty-five feet high, and inside is a cool, shaded 
inclosure of eighteen feet in diameter. Origin- 
ally intended to be a place to conceal refuse, I have 
found it more useful as a retreat. With seats and a 
hammock it is delightful in the hottest days. The 
roots of the arbor-vitse create a dry mat inside, like 
the floor of evergreen woods. If left to arch over 

[ 124 ] 






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.^^l^^UBB^ 


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1 


W-r 


-:t,^ ;• .-V'.- 




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y. 


.v-'" 








^-■~ " 



six] windbreaks and hedges 



a sidewalk, your hedges may easily give a cool, 
arbor-like pathway. One of my own leads to an 
inclosure, where is found a well, useful for water- 
ing the lawn. Over the well is trained an arbor of 
grapes. Hedges for screens are of great impor- 
tance. This is not only to cover the disagreeable, 
but to secure quiet nooks and inclosures for wells, 
hotbeds, and reservoirs. These, although not un- 
pleasant suffixes of a home, cannot be made to 
blend pleasantly into general lawn work. 



[125] 



CHAPTER SEVEN 
OUT IN THE ORCHARD 



If I have not said that something else is the most 
beautiful thing in the world, I will here say that the 
uttermost development of physical beauty is an 
apple orchard, in full bloom — unless possibly it be 
the same orchard when the apples are crimson, and 
bend the limbs down to ask you to share the feast. 
I remember a gray-haired mother, whom we led 
gently to her chair under the snow-white blooms 
that fell noiselessly to match themselves with her 
snow-white hair. All the painters of the Renais- 
sance never painted a picture like that. It is a 
possible everyday picture, where an honest man 
wills to create a true home in the country. So you 
see I shall not ask you out into the orchard, just 
that you may know the commercial value of one 
hundred apple trees, spaced in rows. Going into 
the country you will need about twenty apple trees, 
ten pear trees, ten plum trees, and as many cherry 



OUT IN THE ORCHARD 



trees — to begin with. You will find out, in due 
ti^e, how many more to plant. These, at least, are 
necessary to make country life wholesome and com- 
fortable. The list should be made out to extend 
over the longest possible season. 

Of the cherries, the sour varieties are most im- 
portant, and will drop easily into this succession: 
Early Richmond, English Morello, Montmorency. 
But the length of the season is very likely to be dic- 
tated by your robins, orioles, and catbirds. A 
really first-class bird is a good judge of good cher- 
ries, and so ardent an admirer of the fruit that you 
will have to discuss ownership. In the first place, 
you must plant two or three times as many trees as 
will supply your own table — in this way counting 
in the birds. Even then there may not be enough. 
Where your neighbors are not also growing cher- 
ries, robins will come to you by the hundred, and 
strip your trees. I shall have something more to 
say about this in another chapter, and shall more 
fully describe the remedy. What I wish to say 
here is that cherry trees occupy very little ground, 
that they make good windbreaks, and will grow 
and bear heavy crops, when planted in very close 
array along fence lines. Encourage your neigh- 

[127] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



bors to plant, and in time you will find that the 
birds are so distributed as not to make a very 
serious factor in cherry consumption. 

The old English Morello can be obtained almost 
anywhere on its own roots. It should be planted 
when quite small, as it begins to bear when two or 
three years old, and at five years is a heavy cropper. 
Gradually thin out the top, and slightly raise the 
limbs, until the tree is twelve or more feet in di- 
ameter. I have picked sixty quarts from a well 
grown tree. Sold at ten cents a quart, this is six 
dollars for a very small space of ground — eaten, it 
is lots of comfort for the same space. Cherry pie 
and cherry rolls have been unanimously voted good 
enough for the folk at home. When protected 
from the birds, as I shall describe elsewhere, and 
thoroughly ripened, the so-called sour cherry is 
nearly sweet, and the mild acid is very wholesome. 

The May Duke is one of the finest trees, and one 
of the noblest cherries on the list. It is as good 
for the table as for the kitchen. It is not quite as 
hardy to resist frost as the Morello type, but gener- 
ally comes through all right, as far north as central 
New York and Boston. The Dyehouse is even 
earlier than the Richmond, and is a sure cropper 

[128] 



SEVEN] OUT IN THE ORCHARD 



very far north, but the quaHty is only second rate. 
I have planted several of the Russian importations, 
but have found none to equal those I have named. 
A new claimant for favor is The Baldwin, said to 
be marked for hardiness, earliness, and produc- 
tiveness, while it is of the very highest quality. This 
new variety will probably be of more advantage on 
account of its upright growth, almost like the May 
Duke. The Montmorency is already known under 
half a dozen varieties — all large and late, and ex- 
ceedingly valuable for dessert purposes. The best 
variety is the Stark Montmorency, a selection made 
by Stark Brothers of Missouri; probably a seed- 
ling. Seedlings of Montmorency are easily pro- 
duced; and we may at any time find among them 
a decided improvement. 

Of sweet cherries I prefer for general culture 
Gov. Wood. It is very hardy, a superb cherry for 
the table, and very prolific. I never fail to get 
fruit of Gov. Wood, when Black Tartarian and the 
Bigarreaus fail me. After this variety, select Dike- 
man for a cold region — a cherry that originated in 
northern Michigan. The fruit is large, black, 
firm, and of excellent quality. It is very late to 
come into ripening. Reine Hortense is a very 

[129] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

satisfactory variety, and growing in favor. It is a 
very bright red fruit, and the tree is unusually stout. 
Rockport and Napoleon are the best Bigarreaus. 
Windsor is a grand, new variety, ripening late in 
July. The fruit is plum color, and the quality is 
excellent. With me it has come into bearing late, 
and its fruit buds do not prove to be as hardy as 
Gov. Wood. I have not yet fruited Allen, but am 
told by good judges that it is deserving of most 
universal culture. The size of the fruit is large 
and heart-shaped ; and both the fruit buds and the 
tree are very hardy. For cold climate, in addition 
to Dikeman, Allen and Gov. Wood, I would con- 
fine myself to the sour varieties. 

Cherry trees should be planted either as I have 
suggested for windbreaks or for avenue trees, or 
may be set alternately with apple trees and pear 
trees. If so set, after the apple trees have grown a 
dozen years they will have reached out to need the 
space. By that time the cherries will have done 
their best work, and you will probably have planted 
more elsewhere, so that they can be removed. 
When you do remove them, dig them out, instead 
of cutting them off at the ground. 

The list of plums is being so greatly extended by 

[130] 



SEVEN] OUT IN THE ORCHARD 



improved native sorts, and by crossbreds, that it 
taxes me to reduce the list of really fine varieties to 
a size suitable for a modest country home. Of the 
older plums Green Gage still stands foremost for 
quality. Among all our fruits I do not know an- 
other one that so concentrates richness in a case- 
ment of beauty as this old Green Gage plum. It 
should be grown on high, open sunny spots, and 
never in wet and shady places. It is a long-lived 
tree, giving annual loads of fruit. With it plant 
that magnificent plum, the Magnum Bonum, pro- 
vided you have near it some of the very early- 
blooming varieties, like Abundance, to pollenize 
its flowers. Unfortunately, if grown alone it is 
liable to bear only scattered fruit. Well-pollen- 
ized by a neighbor, it will be loaded so as to need 
thinning and supporting. I sold from a single tree 
in a single year plums to the value of eighteen dol- 
lars. Coe's Golden Drop is another indispensable: 
and Shropshire Damson is a very valuable variety 
for cooking and canning. 

Of newer sorts, Victoria is one of the surest and 
noblest, bearing great, red plums of good quality, 
and in profusion. Pond is another large and hand- 
some plum that bears enormous crops; quality 

[131] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



only moderate. Bradshaw is very early, large, 
prolific, and valuable for home purposes. Two 
fine late sorts are Reine Claude, and Grand Duke, 
the first much like a large Green Gage, and the lat- 
ter a very large purple plum, of good quality. 
Monarch is a noble plum every way — in quality, 
size and cropping ; I hardly think you should under- 
take to get along without it. Of yellow plums, by 
all odds the finest that I have seen is Peter's Yellow 
Gage, while the common Yellow Gage is an infe- 
rior variety — although large and productive. 

Of the newer productions from cross-breeding, 
we have Burbank — a straggling grower, but load- 
ed with beautiful golden plums touched with scar- 
let. However full the limbs may be loaded, the 
fruit never rots on the tree. Red June is a hand- 
some, very early, purple plum, of excellent quality. 
Wickson is a noble plum every way, except that the 
tree grows very upright and compact, so as to seri- 
ously interfere with the production of choice fruit 
— unless the top is kept open by annual trimming. 
But now I am entering that enchanted land where 
Mr. Burbank, "The Wizard," is working; and 
just to name his new varieties would fill a page. 
Of the best are Gold, Gonzales, Chabot, Shiro, 

[ 132 ] 



seven] out in the orchard 



Sultan, Apple, Matthews, Climax, America, Hale, 
and Bartlett. I am not sure that every one of these 
is due to Mr. Burbank; but it will not give him un- 
due honor if we attribute to his skill a few origin- 
ated elsewhere. His farm of thousands of acres, at 
Santa Rosa, California, is the greatest experiment 
station in the world. There, as in the Garden of 
Eden, he creates new fruits, and new flowers, and 
new vegetables, about as fast as the rest of us can 
name them. 

Of our native sorts of plums a few enthusiasts 
already have collections of at least two hundred 
and fifty or more varieties. The collections are so 
very large that it is difficult for any one at present 
to speak with authority as to what half-dozen are 
best for planting. I think that among the best for 
a quiet garden are Hawkeye, Weaver, and Wyant. 
Yet when you are altogether through with your 
study of plums, there is one sort still to be named 
that in almost all sections of the United States de- 
serves to head the plum list for common people; 
I mean theBleecker, or Lombard. It is a tree that 
grows so easily, and bears so profusely, while the 
fruit is of such splendid canning quality, that it is 
the plum for the four corners of the United States. 

[133] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



The tree does not grow so shapely as some, and if 
left alone, sends up innumerable suckers. On this 
account you will find that the Bleecker is short-lived, 
and needs very frequent replanting. However, 
you can get so many small trees for your replant- 
ing that it will cause you little trouble to always 
have enough Bleecker trees, while the small trees 
will begin to bear at three years of age. The mar- 
ket call for plums is first for Bleeckers, and after 
that for Shropshire Damson and Green Gage. The 
plum is, 'par excellence, the fruit for preserves, for 
jam, for puddings; and no country home can com- 
fortably begin its career without a few plum trees. 
Meanwhile, you cannot afford to wholly overlook 
the prunes — which are only a sort of plum. Among 
the best sorts are Fellenberg, Sugar, Pacific, and 
Giant — say one of each. 

A select list of pears, affording a good succession 
from July to April, would be, for early summer, 
Margaret, Tyson, Clapp's Favorite, Bartlett; for 
autumn, Flemish Beauty, Onondaga, Seckel, Shel- 
don; for early winter, Anjou, Danas Hovey, Law- 
rence, Nelis ; for later winter use — to be kept like 
winter apples — Josephine, Patrick Barry, Col. Wil- 
der, and Oliver DeSerres. There are so many 

[ 134 ] 



SEVEN] OUT IN THE ORCHARD 



more really valuable pears that the list will be sure 
to leave out some one's favorite ; and I shall not un- 
dertake to name many really excellent pears for 
localities. My only object is to give you a good list, 
covering the full season. Flemish Beauty, un- 
fortunately, can no longer be grown, unless sprayed 
very early and repeatedly with Bordeaux Mix- 
ture; and even then it must stand on high and 
open ground. It cracks and blights, but is the 
most delicious dessert pear in the world — besides 
being a superb variety for canning. All in all, for 
first rank as a table pear, except for color, the Shel- 
don is the king. The Seckel is ideal in flavor, but 
is too small to be grown for market. Tyson is 
slow to come into bearing, but is one of the most de- 
licious early sorts. Clapp's Favorite must be picked 
ten days before it is soft, and matured in a dark 
storeroom or cellar — then it keeps admirably, and 
is of superb flavor — otherwise it will rot at the core, 
and has no flavor to deserve attention. Onondaga 
is one of the best stand-bys for immense crops of 
large, clean pears that I have ever grown. I like 
it more and more each year. The tree is very 
tough and hardy. The fruit, when well ripened, 
is fine for eating, and is always splendid for can- 

[135] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



ning or pickling or preserving. Lawrence is a 
delicately sweet, medium-sized pear, of a clean, 
bright yellow, and is ripe in December. It is pref- 
erable to grow this sort grafted high in old trees. 
Anjou is another prince of pears, when we con- 
sider its keeping qualities, its high flavor, its rich 
color, and the ideal form and growth and health of 
trees. Picked in October, it will keep until Janu- 
ary, and be in prime condition for the holidays. 
Josephine is a medium-sized pear, and might be 
taken for a small Anjou; it is in prime eating in 
April. Patrick Barry is said to be the best of the 
winter pears for very late use, but I have not yet 
fruited it. You will see the charm of having a bin 
of winter pears that will keep as nicely as winter 
apples. If you grow but one or two sorts, I should 
select Anjou for early, and Josephine for late. 

I do not wonder that such men as Wilder and 
Downing became pear enthusiasts. It is a noble 
fruit, and every year we are able still to produce 
improvements. Among the best of the newer sorts 
are Koonce for very early; Fame, Alamo, King 
Carl, Ozark, Triumph, originating in the midwest; 
and Rosney, Vermont Beauty, and Worden's Seckel 
of Eastern origin. On your ten or twenty acres 

[136] 



SEVEN] OUT IN THE ORCHARD 

you have no room for second-class fruits, even if 
they will sell; for as sure as human progress, in- 
ferior stuff will, after a while, stop selling. For 
this reason I say plant no Garber or Kieffer. Picked 
very early, and handled with great care, Kieffer 
is sometimes tolerably good — generally it is unfit 
for table use. I hesitate to say that a pear should 
be handled with more care than an apple, for I 
hold that an apple should be so picked and stored 
that not one cell be ruptured. The pear, however, 
must be handled with the utmost caution, or it will 
be very quick to decay. The profit in pear grow- 
ing for market lies wholly in sympathetic treat- 
ment. 

The pear tree must be planted without manure, 
in clean soil; must be kept free from suckers; 
mulched with coal ashes, or some other clean ma- 
terial, and washed often with kerosene emulsion. 
You must be sure that a young pear tree does not 
get checked in its growth. You should never 
plant the little whip-stalks that are sent out from 
some nurseries; they will in ten years' time not 
make one year's growth. Get good, stocky trees, 
six feet high or more, and plant as I have directed. 
Keep the bark clean, and the roots moist, and 

[137] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



every weak shoot cut out. The pear tree is har- 
dier than the apple, and needs less care — except 
to see that it does not get choked or checked in 
growth. However small your homestead may be, 
don't try to get along with less than three or four 
pear trees. Plant them near the house, and in sod 
land ; but, as I have directed, thoroughly mulched, 
and annually forked about. When you have be- 
come a thoroughly naturalized countryman, and 
possibly a market gardener, you can plant your 
pears in rows and plow among them. 

For a country home you can afford to plant 
peaches quite freely, even where there is very un- 
certain fruitage. I have best success with Car- 
man, a noble and beautiful very early peach; fol- 
lowed by Waddell, one of the best in the whole list; 
and this by Champion, a nearly white freestone of 
magnificent quality. Seedlings of early Crawford 
are very likely to give you satisfaction, and old trees 
of Crosby are nearly as hardy as Green Gage plums. 
This variety needs thinning out very sharply, to 
give you a decent feast. Those who have never eaten 
peaches right off the trees know much about 
them. I rarely find one in market that comes near 
the notch of that juicy, rich, sweet, absolutely sat- 

[ 138 ] 



seven] out in the orchard 

isfying fruit that I used to pick up in my Michigan 
orchard. So here in New York I keep on growing 
peach trees, because sometimes I get a crop — gen- 
erally more or less Waddells and Champions. 
Mountain Rose is another hardy sort; and Admiral 
Dewey, Holderbaum, Kalamazoo, Captain Ede, 
Mamie Ross, will endure zero weather, and are all 
of the finest quality. In a climate just out of the 
peach belt give no room whatever to late varieties, 
for they will not perfect themselves before freezing 
weather. 

The quince can claim a place with your orchard 
trees, or in the garden of currants and berries. I 
have them growing in both of these relations. I 
like a quince bush also near the house, or one oc- 
casionally showing its golden fruit in the shrubbery. 
I hold it to be indispensable, in October, November, 
and December, to have a dish of baked quinces on 
the dinner table. It is the perfection of table lux- 
uries. Cut open, remove the core, and cover with 
butter and sugar; and let conversation cease. The 
old orange or apple quince is the one most com- 
monly planted, and is a thoroughly good sort. The 
pear-shaped variety is a trifle later, but is a much 
better keeper, and I think of better quality. I 

[139] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



recommend that you get a tree or two of this variety, 
if you can find them. Quinces that are in no way 
cracked or bruised can be stored in a cold cellar and 
kept until February. Among the sorts highly rec- 
ommended are Meech and Champion. Mr. Bur- 
bank has recently originated a sort that can be 
eaten out of the hand. He has named it the Pine- 
apple. There is no doubt but that the quince will, 
after a while, be so improved as to class with pear 
and apple as a dessert fruit. 

Whether you are creating a quiet home or a mar- 
ket garden, you will want to possess a couple of 
mulberries, a couple of persimmons, and two or 
three pawpaw trees. The best mulberry is the 
Abundance; the best persimmon you will have to 
get by grafting; and the best pawpaws you can only 
secure either by digging them from the river bot- 
toms, or by buying very small trees of one or two 
nurserymen, who have admitted them to their 
catalogues. Unfortunately, no American nursery- 
man has yet taken up very seriously the improve- 
ment of the American persimmon, while the Japan- 
ese varieties are not hardy north of the Ohio River. 
We ought to be able to create as grand fruits as the 
Japanese, and will, in due time. Mr. Munson, of 

[140] 



seven] out in the orchard 



Dennison, Texas, has a variety which he calls the 
Honey Persimmon, and describes as very sweet 
and rich. It will be worth our while to plant this 
and test its hardiness in the North. I find the Mis- 
souri varieties, grafted into native stock, are all en- 
tirely frost-proof in Central New York. The paw- 
paw will grow anywhere in our gardens, but it likes 
water, and if the season is dry the fruit will either 
drop or be flavorless, unless the trees are abun- 
dantly irrigated. I see no reason why this delicious 
fruit, a sort of hardy banana, should not be grown 
everywhere in our gardens. I get a half bushel 
each year from a tree ten feet in diameter and the 
same in height. A single persimmon on my lawn 
is covered with two or three bushels, each year, of 
the most beautiful golden fruit. 

The apricot and the nectarine are two fruits not 
as yet generally planted in the North. We have, 
however, varieties of apricots that are entirely hardy 
— quite as hardy as the plum, but not so sure to be 
fertile. The Superb, a Kansas seedling, is just now 
the favorite. It is a high-flavored, handsome and 
prolific variety; but where the climate is mild, per- 
haps the Harris or Moorpark should be preferred. 
Of the nectarines I believe that the Boston and the 

[141] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



Downton and the Pitmaston are as good as can 
be procured. The trees need about the same cul- 
ture and the same soil as the plum. 

But having surrounded ourselves with this great 
Rosacese family, and become well acquainted with 
its members, and having made a loving alliance 
with them all, we shall agree that the princeliest 
member of the family is the apple. Life would be 
a very different thing if we were to be deprived of 
this noble fruit. It is getting to be one of our chief 
exports, as well as more a part of home dietary. 
One of our ablest medical writers says, " Life can be 
prolonged more easily by eliminating a large share 
of meats, and using much more freely fruits — but 
above all by a daily use of the apple. Ripe apples 
should be eaten twice a day, and before meals." 

I am going to make for you three lists of apples 
which I can commend. The first list will include 
twenty sorts, for a place of twenty or more acres; 
then a list of twelve for a smaller homestead ; and, 
finally, a list of six for a half acre or acre. Begin- 
ning with summer, I should select Red Astrachan, 
Yellow Transparent, Summer Strawberry and Pri- 
mate. Add to these Sweet Bough, provided the 
orchard stands very open; but in close orchards 

[142] 



seven] out in the orchard 



this variety will be worthless. For autumn select 
Gravenstein, Porter (grafted high), Fameuse and 
Shiawassie Beauty. For delicious dessert fruit, 
add President for October, Princess Louise and 
Walter Pease for October and November — pos- 
sibly all grafted on one tree. The Scott is one of 
the finest for December and January. 

My selection for winter apples would be Bald- 
win, Spitzenburg, York Imperial, Hubbardston, 
Mother, Mcintosh, Northern Spy, Rhode Island 
Greening, Sutton, and Pound Sweet. Where the 
King apple will thrive, and do its best, it is cer- 
tainly the most beautiful and magnificent of fruits; 
but it is quite autocratic, and will not grow on all 
soils. It should be grafted high on old trees. There 
are two other sorts of the very highest quality, 
which also require this top-grafting — the Spitzen- 
burg and the Swaar. The reason for this is that 
the bark of all these varieties is liable to winter 
killing. In sandy soil the Jonathan and Grimes 
Golden are unsurpassable, both in beauty and qual- 
ity. In the Hudson valley, and a few other locali- 
ties, the Newtown Pippin is an ideal, keeping until 
May, alongside the Golden Russet. It requires 
rich soil, lots of sunshine, and the fruit should be 

[143] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



sharply thinned. The Baldwin should never be 
grown in a close orchard ; so also the Pound Sweet. 
Mcintosh, Shiawassie Beauty, and Princess Louise 
and Walter Pease are all seedlings of Fameuse or 
Snow, and they are all worthy of such parentage. 
Of the sweet apples Tolman is fine for baking, but 
it is no longer popular in market. Pound Sweet 
is the one most in demand, and when this apple 
gets the sun it is a glorious product. If grown in 
the shade it is worse than worthless. Although a 
fall apple, it can be picked in October and care- 
fully handled so as to keep until March. 

Now for a closer list of twelve prime sorts — just 
about enough for home use. For summer you 
must have Astrachan, followed by Gravenstein, 
and then Fameuse; and a tree divided between 
Princess Louise and President. For winter you 
must certainly have, for early use, Mcintosh and 
Hubbardston, and then Baldwin, and Spitzen- 
burg, and Northern Spy — the last being the ab- 
solutely indispensable variety anywhere and every- 
where. But if you positively must be satisfied 
with five or six trees, take these for succession: 
Astrachan, Gravenstein, Fameuse, Pound Sweet, 
Rhode Island Greening, and Spy. It is a good 

[ 144 ] 



seven] out in the orchard 



plan on a very small home plot to graft two sorts 
into a single tree. 

There are other varieties that, as an apple en- 
thusiast, I dislike to omit, especially some of 
the newer sorts that are being originated every 
year. The Yellow Bellflower is number one 
in a Michigan list; and the Roxbury Russet is an- 
other great apple for that state, and for some other 
sections; but in New York State both of these are 
so badly infested with codlin moth that it does not 
pay to plant them. Sutton's Beauty is probably 
destined to be one of the greatest of our market 
apples — resembling Baldwin. Wagner is a sort of 
cross between Spy and Mother, a glorious fruit; 
and I think it is generally a successful grower. 
Summer Rose is of very excellent quality, and a 
very beautiful summer fruit, but it is too small to 
enter into a short list. For my own use I should 
surely include in every list the Summer Strawberry, 
and it is equally fine for market. 

Every one in the country needs at least two crab- 
apple trees, not only for the fruit, but for the beauty 
displayed when the tree is in full blossom, and again 
when the fruit is ripe. I consider a well-shaped 
crab-apple tree, bursting into bloom before all other 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



apples, to be as ornamental for the lawn as any tree 
that the world affords. I would select for early 
varieties Paul's Imperial and Whitney, and for late 
varieties Dartmouth and Hyslop. In another 
chapter I have something to say about the use of 
crab-apple trees for windbreaks. They not only 
serve admirably when used for this purpose, but 
they have the additional value of furnishing a large 
amount of fruit for market and for cider, and for a 
much favored jelly. 

I shall venture to add a list of apples for a strictly 
Northern section, beyond the apple belt. You will 
be safe in selecting Tetofsky, Wolf River, Pewau- 
kee, Gideon, Northwestern Greening, Yellow 
Transparent, Wealthy, Longfield, Fameuse, and 
Duchess of Oldenburg. These will prove to be in 
the main entirely hardy in the Dakotas, Wyoming, 
and Montana. For a section below the regular 
apple belt, a good list may be made out as follows : 
Yellow Transparent, Duchess of Oldenburg, 
Early Joe, Primate, Golden Sweet, Early Straw- 
berry, Fall Wine, Fall Pippin, Gravenstein, Jacob's 
Sweet, Jonathan, Northern Spy, Porter, Shiawassie 
Beauty, Grimes Golden, White Pippin, Stark. 
York Imperial, Stayman's Winesap, and Mam- 

[146] 



seven] out in the orchard 



moth Black Twig. To this Hst are being added 
some very excellent varieties, originated in the 
Southwest. You will observe that a few of the 
varieties named thrive from the extreme North to 
the extreme South. 

All these lists do not include some of the grand- 
est apples in the world, partly because we do not 
yet quite understand how generally some of them 
will thrive, and again we do know that some apples 
are very local in their attachment. Among the 
most promising new varieties, the Delicious and the 
Senator are two from the Ozark Mountain region. 
Wismer's Dessert is a new Canada apple of extra- 
ordinary beauty, and very hardy. The tree is a 
good grower, and I suggest that you do not over- 
look it. Stuart's Golden is a medium-sized apple 
— delicious, digestible, and a long keeper; good for 
eating from November till the last of April. The 
best new sweet apple that I have recently met with 
is Danchy's Sweet; and a close second is Sconon- 
doah. We are just entering the apple age, and 
new varieties will hereafter multiply with great 
rapidity, although we shall probably never give 
up a few of the older sorts, such as Spitzenburg, 
Baldwin, Hubbardston, and Northern Spy — a 

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magnificent quartette. Our children will eat more 
apples, and they will hear less of some of the most 
destructive diseases. 

The soil of an orchard requires to be strong; and 
in general almost all sorts thrive best in clay ■ — al- 
though there are exceptions. It must be remem- 
bered always that the production of large crops of 
apples, or of any other fruit, is a heavy draft on the 
fertility of the soil; and unless means are used to 
replace the elements that are withdrawn, soil ex- 
haustion will follow. That sort of food which is 
needed in one soil will not, however, be suited to 
all others. An apple orchard can be renewed in 
its fertility most conveniently by plowing under 
what are called cover crops — in the main clovers, 
peas, buckwheat, and cow peas. The object is 
not only to give direct food to the trees, but to add 
to the humus or decaying vegetable matter. Legu- 
minous plants, including the clovers, beans and 
peas, have the peculiar ability of taking nitrogen 
from the air, and for this reason become the 
very best of crops to be plowed under in an apple 
orchard. 

As a rule, do not set young apple trees in vacan- 
cies that occur in an old orchard; certainly not 

[148] 



SEVEN] OUT IN THE ORCHARD 



while the old roots still remain and are decaying in 
the soil. The old trees have in all probability left 
the soil exhausted, and the old wood while decaying 
poisons the new. This is less true of plums and 
cherries than of apples and pears. I have named 
a few apples that prefer sandy soil; others dislike 
limestone soil. Most apple trees have their idio- 
syncrasies. In Central New York we fail to get 
such Jonathans and Grimes' Goldens as are grown 
in Ohio and West Virginia. One of the apples 
that thrives over a very large area is the Northern 
Spy. It is a deliberate tree, slow to come to bear- 
ing, but afterward is very constant and prolific. 
In all cases remember that fruit trees cannot 
effectually serve you unless you serve them. They 
must be fed, or they cannot feed you in turn. Their 
office is to take the elements in a raw state, and 
work them over into delicious food for human 
beings. In this way we really are compatriots 
with the trees in our orchards. I am convinced 
that the very best plan for large growers of apples 
is to pasture the orchard with sheep or with hogs. 
These will destroy all the defective apples, while 
they keep the soil enriched. Where the methods 
suggested above are inconvenient, mulch your 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



trees with a strong compost made of barn manure, 
ashes and lime. 

Nearly all orchards are seriously injured by lack 
of foresight in planting. The trees are set too close 
together, and when they are grown their limbs not 
only interfere, but shade the fruit, so that it is rare- 
ly perfect and high-colored. A good apple cannot 
grow in the shade. It must be made of sunshine 
and fresh air. Many of the enemies of the apple 
work only in the shade, especially the tripeta fly. 
The true distance for planting apple trees is about 
thirty- five feet apart — better forty, with plums 
and cherries intermediary. 

If you set fruit trees in the fall, it must be only 
when the soil is dry and easily workable. After 
the tree is set it should be staked in, and firmly 
tied with very coarse twine or bast. Leave the 
dirt somewhat mounded, so that the water cannot 
settle about the tree during the winter. Pound 
down the dirt, except a few shovelfuls which may 
be left loose on the top, over which spread the 
mulch. Be sure not to wait until the moisture is 
dried out of the loose top soil, but apply the mulch 
at once. This is particularly needful when plant- 
ing is done in the spring. The whole difference 

[150] 



seven] out in the orchard 



between success and failure will depend upon this 
one point of retaining moisture about the roots. 

Trimming is the next all-important matter. 
Trees received from nurseries are seldom pruned, 
unless you so order. Even then it will be neces- 
sary to cut away branches that have been broken 
in the shipping. Cut off all small and feeble twigs, 
close up to the bark. Then cut back the stouter 
branches, from one-third to two-thirds. On each 
twig leave the last bud pointing in the direction 
you wish that limb to grow — which will, of course, 
be outward and not inward, so as to spread the 
top open to air and sunshine. You will soon get 
the knack of shaping a tree-top. Limbs must not 
lop over each other, nor intertwine. But be sure 
to dig out all suckers that have started about the 
roots; and keep these out at all times. If care- 
lessly removed, twenty will come in the place of the 
one that has been cut away. Remember that if 
suckers are allowed to grow on the body or on the 
limbs of trees, they take the vitality from the bear- 
ing limbs; and in a few years these will become 
barren — then brittle, and then will break off. The 
tree becomes a mass of useless rubbish, incapable 
of renovation. A beautiful apple or other fruit 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



tree, neatly trimmed and never neglected, is a 
sight the owner may be proud of; but an orchard 
of any sort left to shift for itself is a disgrace. 

I have spoken of shaping fruit trees; you must 
not, however, be fooled by pictures of ideal trees. 
The fact is that no two varieties of pear trees have 
the same ideal ; and no two varieties of apples form 
exactly the same shaped head. A Seckel pear is 
ideal when the head is nearly round; an Anjou is 
ideal when very nearly a pyramid; and a Buffam 
has for its ideal a column much like a Lombardy 
poplar. You must study varieties, and adjust 
your trimming to each sort. A Spitzenburg apple 
droops its limbs over till they touch the ground; 
a Northern Spy apple seeks to become round- 
headed, and must be controlled about limbing out 
at one spot; an Astrachan is also round-headed, 
and retains that shape through life ; a Russet throws 
its limbs out nearly horizontal ; and so you may go 
through your whole orchard and find a strong in- 
dividuality everywhere. 

I shall have more to say about bees in another 
chapter, but here let me tell you that you will find 
a large share of your fruit blossoms cannot perfect- 
ly pollenize themselves — a fact that repeats itself 

[152] 



seven] out in the orchard 



in the vineyard and in the flower garden. The 
Bartlett pear and the Anjou are marked instances 
in the pear orchard, while among your apples the 
more self-sterile include Astrachan, Ben Davis, 
Fameuse, Gravenstein, Grimes' Golden, King, 
Rhode Island Greening, Spitzenburg, and Rox- 
bury Russet. Insects are needed, and especially 
honey bees, everywhere to carry the pollen grains 
from one tree to another. It often happens that a 
very rainy May prevents insects from flying, and so 
the apple crop becomes greatly reduced, if not a 
failure. 

I have not forgotten that, in many cases, you 
will be buying an old homestead, and so you will 
come into possession of a few aged and more or 
less derelict fruit trees. One of your first ques- 
tions will be what to do with these. Begin by re- 
moving the dead limbs and every sucker, except 
possibly a few very strong ones that will help to 
make a new head for the tree. In most cases 
these, having grown for several years, will have de- 
vitalized the tree and started decay. You cannot 
make over these old trees, yet you may get some 
service from them while you are growing new ones. 
Young apple trees will come into bearing in four 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



to five years after planting, and will give fair crops 
in six to eight years. If you buy your trees headed 
low they will begin to bear much earlier than if 
headed high. Pear trees especially should be 
limbed low; for in this way standards will come 
into bearing as early and as profusely as dwarfs. 
You must, however, bear in mind that you may 
wish to plow among your trees after they have 
grown, and that will be impossible if they are not 
headed six or seven feet high. Handle an old pear 
tree very much as an old apple tree; that is, com- 
pletely clean it, remove the suckers, scour with 
kerosene emulsion, and paint over wounds. If 
there are holes, carefully cover from the weather by 
tacking over them pieces of tin. I have got from 
old, broken Onondagas and Seckels, that were 
nearly dead, by careful treatment, shoots that formed 
new heads and bore good crops for many years. 
It is a curious fact that some varieties of apples, 
like the Porter, are never so good on vital trees as 
on aged, decaying ones. Therefore, go. slow about 
cutting down an old fruit tree until it is quite un- 
able to pay for itself. I have four apple trees, set 
by a missionary to the Indians in 1791, which still 
yield abundant crops. 

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SEVEN] OUT IN THE ORCHARD 



Apples, and indeed all fruit, should be handled 
like eggs. If a picker drops or tosses them into a 
basket, even three inches, he should be discharged. 
Such handling bruises a few cells, and at once 
begins decay. You will often hear people say, " My 
apples are not keeping well." If you notice, those 
people will say the same thing another year. The 
year has seldom anything to do with it. The trou- 
ble is in the handling of the fruit. After being laid 
in the basket, it should be taken out by hand into 
a wagon, upon clean blankets or soft hay, then 
taken to the cellar, and after careful sorting, be laid 
into the bins from the baskets. It should be put 
in storage just as fast as picked. At each move 
handle softly and kindly, and after that, if graded 
properly, the high grades will not rot in a cool stor- 
age room. 

Grading should leave apples in at least three as- 
sortments. No. 1 should be absolutely perfect 
fruit, to be stored or barreled. This grade should 
go with honor. It should' stand for all that you 
are. If you lie in your fruit-grading you are not 
to be trusted anywhere, and you cannot trust your- 
self. Store your fruit in bins about fifteen inches 
in depth — certainly not more than two feet in 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [cilvpter 



depth. Of course every apple is sound, and you 
have been as honest with yourself as with your cus- 
tomers. With proper experience you will learn 
that the bins of Kings and Spitzenburgs should be 
sold by the end of January, while those of Green- 
ing, Baldwin, and Jonathan may remain into Feb- 
ruary and March, and Newtown Pippins and 
Swaars and Russets can be held until May. 

Your No. 2 apples should be graded about as 
those commonly seen in market as No. 1. They 
will sell at a lower price, and they will keep until 
m^idwinter, but they will need examination and 
occasional sorting. The No. 3 grade includes only 
fruit slightly defective, of the choicest sorts. The 
balance should go as quickly as possible into cider ; 
but even the cider apples should be graded, so as 
to use the most perishable stock first. 

Every one who owns fifty apple trees should have 
a small cider press and a gasoline engine. Such 
a press should turn to cider all wasting products 
— either apples or pears. When there is not a 
good market for cider it should go into vinegar 
barrels. Whenever your crop is one hundred and 
fifty barrels, if you have cared for it properly, 
about ninety barrels should be first grade; about 

[156] 



seven] out in the orchard 



thirty should be second grade; and thirty more 
should go into third grade, or cider. Let no wormy 
fruit lie in your orchard at any season of the 
year, for the larvae of the moths will pass into the 
ground, and make you future trouble. 

1 am in danger of keeping you too long in the 
orchard. I love the sight and smell of apple trees, 
as well as the sight and smell of the fruit. I have 
a dozen sorts lying about my desk, flanking the 
books and papers, and they are quite as beautiful 
and fragrant as the nasturtiums in a great bowl 
of water, and mignonette in a vase with a rosebud. 

I have intended this chapter to cover a wide 
field; yet there is a wider field still opening before 
the fruit grower. The government is enthusias- 
tic over a new fruit produced by the experiment 
stations in charge of the Agricultural Department. 
This is a cross between the orange as it grows in 
Florida and the hardy citrus which has been grown 
successfully through the most of the apple belt. 
This citrus, while yielding flowers of exquisite odor, 
had given us no fruit for consumption. The new 
variety is a thoroughly good dessert fruit, but of 
small size. This, however, matters little; all we 
wanted was to have the door opened in this 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



direction. With the zeal and enterprise heretofore 
shown by our horticulturists, it is almost certain 
that within a few years we shall have oranges grow- 
ing in our Northern States — certainly as far north 
as the Ohio River. Those who have time for far- 
ther experiment will find the growing of figs pos- 
sible as far north as Pennsylvania. The summers 
are sufiiciently long and warm to secure a strong 
growth of the tree, but the fruit will not mature un- 
less there is protection to carry it through the win- 
ter. It is recommended to wrap the fruiting shoots 
in matting and straw, or to build temporary sheds 
over the plants. My opinion is that fig-growing 
will be successful precisely as we grow peaches — 
that is, in pots or boxes which can be removed to 
sheds or sheltered places during the winter. I am 
successful in growing quite a number of fruits, 
which will not endure the winter's temperature, in 
tubs, as suggested above. The peach bel^ can be 
widened very decidedly in this way. The fruit 
matures readily, and is of as fine quality as that 
grown in a peach orchard. 

The possibilities in fruit culture, where a person 
owns but a small area, are not yet appreciated. 
Everywhere about the country there are waste 

[158] 



SEVEN] OUT IN THE ORCHARD 



spots, unremunerative to the owner, which might 
be devoted to plums, cherries, apples and pears. 
From the Bureau of Plant Industry I borrow the 
following estimate of fruit-bearing plants that can 
be grown on an area of sixty by eighty feet. You 
may have three rows, one containing six trees of 
dwarf pears ; one containing six specimens of dwarf 
apples ; one containing six plum trees ; one contain- 
ing six cherry trees ; one more with six peach trees ; 
and thirty-two grape vines distributed around the 
entire garden, at intervals of ten feet. Beside these 
trees, it is possible to grow on the same area forty 
plants of red raspberry, forty of black raspberries, 
twenty of blackberries, and three hundred straw- 
berry plants. Imagine for yourselves how much 
comfort and profit may come from so restricted 
an area of fruit. 



[159] 



CHAPTER EIGHT 
STRAWBERRIES AND THEIR KIN 



1 HE strawberry is a member of the Rosacese 
family. There are four families of trees and plants, 
without which mammals, including man, would 
have found it very difficult to exist on the earth — 
certainly to secure progressive evolution. These 
are the rose, the cereal, the solanum, and the palm 
families. In our temperate zone the rose or Ros- 
acese family is the most important cooperator 
with human kind. It includes in our orchards 
the peaches, plums, cherries, apricots, pears, and 
apples. But this is not all, for when we pass over 
into our gardens we find that the blackberry, the 
raspberry, and even the creeping strawberry are 
all of the same kin. I have had a good deal to do 
with a part of this family in other chapters; I am 
here to consider the strawberry and its near kin — 
that is, the raspberry and the blackberry, including 
the dewberry. Think how much of the brightness 



STRAWBERRIES AND THEIR KIN 



and poetry of existence is associated with these 
berries; and if, then, you widen out your vision to 
take in the whole family — including several vari- 
eties of trees that do not give edible fruit — you 
will see that it is of royal blood. 

You will be tempted, at the very outset of your 
home-making in the country, to plant a large straw- 
berry bed. There are certainly few sights more 
beautiful than a row of strawberry plants loaded 
with blossoms and ripening and ripe berries. The 
fruit simply covers the ground. For most people 
it is a very wholesome fruit, although I have found 
a few to whom it was a poison. Yet I advise you 
to go slow in planting strawberries, for the reason 
that there is no fruit that needs more specific atten- 
tion and continuous care, and for that matter more 
horticultural skill, than this little vine. I would 
surely begin with a very small plot, and I would 
experiment with only two or three varieties to 
begin with. In the first place, the bed must be pre- 
pared very carefully, to exclude not only roots of 
weeds, but weed seeds. If you enrich it with barn- 
yard manure in which there is clover seed and 
grass seed, you will have only continuous labor and 
small crops. The soil should be light and friable, 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



thoroughly worked, and very strong. Really good 
vegetable soil, in which can grow the best potatoes, 
onions, and beets, is good strawberry soil. I should 
lay out my bed with relation to adjacent crops, so 
that the horse-cultivator can do the work at the 
same time that it goes through the raspberry or 
other small-fruit rows. 

If the soil needs fertilizing, apply the most com- 
pletely decomposed barnyard manure, with which 
may be mixed a good proportion of ashes. If the 
ground is inclined to be stiff you may work in a 
large amount of coal ashes from anthracite coal. 
These loosen the clay soil, and allow the absorp- 
tion of nitrogen. Where commercial fertilizer is 
used, apply, in the fall, kainit and phosphates. The 
following spring apply nitrate of soda — before the 
blossoms have appeared, and when the leaves are 
dry. One of the Experiment Stations gives the 
following formula: Cottonseed meal, five hundred 
pounds; acid phosphate, one thousand pounds; 
muriate of potash, two hundred and fifty pounds 
per acre. You can easily estimate the proportion 
needed for your small bed. This formula should 
be applied late in the summer or late in the fall. 
Nitrate of soda can be applied in the spring, in con- 

[162] 



eight] strawberries AND THEIR KIN 



nection with this mixture, at the rate of about one 
hundred pounds per acre. Another Experiment 
Station recommends precipitated phosphate five 
hundred pounds; kainit, one thousand pounds; 
nitrate of soda, two hundred pounds — the nitrate 
of soda being appHed in the spring, and the rest 
in the fall. But if you have fairly good garden 
soil, not heedlessly exhausted by previous crop- 
ping, you make your own manures. I have said 
in another chapter that I would in all cases com- 
post manures. The compost which I apply to my 
strawberry beds comes from the house drainage 
and waste, after it has been thoroughly intermixed 
with decomposed barn manure and coal ashes. I 
cover my strawberries in the fall quite freely with 
this compost, applying liquid manure in the spring. 
If your bed is near the barn, be sure that you have 
every ounce of liquid manure caught in a stone 
reservoir, or at least a sunken barrel, so that you 
may save it for your berry plots, including the 
strawberry. 

The position of a strawberry bed must depend 
also upon your ability to irrigate. Unfortunately, 
there is not one of our crops so easily spoiled as this 
delicious berry. We are very liable to dry spells 

[163] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

in June, just when the strawberry is swelling and 
ripening. If possible, have the bed where the irri- 
gation will be easily achieved. Carrying pipes 
from your reservoir or well, it is not a difficult mat- 
ter to flood a small bed between the rows, thor- 
oughly soaking the roots. 

Most of us find it inconvenient to grow straw- 
berries in hills, which, after all, is the ideal plan for 
most varieties. Some of the best varieties are use- 
less with any other method of growing. If grown 
in hills we must keep all runners from getting a 
start, and the tilth must be very clean. Some vari- 
eties will make hills as large as a peck measure, and 
will give proportionately large crops. The usual 
culture is in rows, and this I recommend for nearly 
all who are not professionals. In planting have 
your rows four feet apart, and set your plants one 
foot apart in the row. When the runners start, 
your first attention must be to see that they run 
mainly in the row, instead of starting off across the 
intermediate pathway. If set in the spring, the 
matted row will be quite complete by fall. If we 
set in the summer there should still be considerable 
growth made, and something of a row established 
by November. I prefer spring planting, provided 

[ 164 ] 



eight] strawberries AND THEIR KIN 



the soil is not sticky. The ground, in fact, should 
be rather dry than otherwise when the planting 
takes place. 

Here comes a very particular point in the cul- 
ture of strawberries. The plants, if received from 
a distance, should have had a good bath, of an hour 
or two, in a brook or a tub of water. The ground 
being friable and clean, draw your line; then with 
a trowel dig a small, shallow hole, and have the 
ground slightly mounded in the bottom. Spread 
the roots over this, shove on the dirt, and crowd 
down with all your might. If you have got the 
dirt just right, the plant will be left with the crown 
exactly level with the general surface of the ground. 
Mark you, it must not stand above, nor must it be 
crowded at all below — it must be absolutely level 
with the general surface. After having crowded 
in dirt to cover the roots, slowly pour in a quart of 
water, then throw over loose dirt, and your planting 
will be a success. You cannot set a strawberry 
plant as you would a cabbage plant — that is, with 
indifference to the exact depth of the crown. 

Now if dry weather sets in, and watering be- 
comes essential, irrigate regularly, if you can, with 
pipes. If you have not any such convenience, dig 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



a hole about as large as the palm of your hand by 
the side of each plant, once in two or three days, 
and pour in a quart of water, slowly. Then scat- 
ter over dry dirt to hold in the moisture. Two 
such waterings will serve for a week. On no ac- 
count whatever sprinkle a strawberry bed or water 
the plants very slightly. Do it thoroughly, or let 
it alone. The bed will get along far better without 
you if you are unwilling to be thorough. 

Strawberry beds are generally renewed every 
year — that is, new strawberry beds are set, while 
the old one is allowed to do what it will for an ad- 
ditional year. This is too much trouble for a 
small country place, and it is unnecessary. A 
strawberry bed, with proper care, can be made to 
do good service for three years, or even more. Best 
crops, of course, will appear on fresh beds, but the 
old beds, carefully handled, will give good satis- 
faction. In order to secure this perpetuity of a 
bed you must keep the rows very narrow, by cut- 
ting off the suckers; but about every second year 
you must let the runners form midway rows, while 
you fork out or plow out the old plants. My cus- 
tom is, after a bed has borne two years, to set it to 
currants or raspberries, without entirely uproot- 

[ 166 ] 



EIGHT] STRAWBERRIES AND THEIR KIN 



ing the plants. The strawberries are allowed to 
give me some small returns for a year or two more, 
while the substituted plants are growing. 

A strawberry bed must be invariably covered, 
in order to make it secure from heaving out or freez- 
ing out during the winter. A few of the newer, 
long-rooted varieties take so strong a grip on the 
soil that, while no hardier, they are not as liable to 
be heaved. But in covering, we have to remem- 
ber that the object is not so much to protect the 
plant as to prevent freezing and thawing of the 
soil. The real diflSculty is thawing after freezing, 
and then freezing again. After experimenting 
with all sorts of covering, I am satisfied that our 
best plan is to use compost such as I have de- 
scribed, distributing it freely along the rows about 
the first of November. It should not cover the tips 
of the leaves. The plants should be visible all 
along the rows, otherwise you will find that you 
have smothered and rotted more than you have 
saved. In the spring, with a little movement of a 
rake, this compost can be settled down into the rows 
as a fertilizer. Autumn leaves make a fairly good 
covering, provided they can be held in place with 
trimming from your raspberries or other light 

[16711 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



brush; but be careful not to smother your plants. 
I have used sawdust very satisfactorily, because it 
need not be removed, only raked into the alleys in 
the spring. I believe tanbark is considered a good 
covering by those who can get it. Cut straw is 
used by many, but this sort of covering is liable to 
draw the mice, who will use it for nesting, and then 
gnaw the plants. I am careful never to use straw, 
either for covering or for mulching in the fall, but 
an old, decaying straw heap can be utilized in the 
spring, either as mulching about trees or as a 
mulch between the rows of strawberries — pushed 
up close under the stems, that would incline to 
droop over and get soiled. This mulching of a 
strawberry bed is exceedingly valuable in the way 
of retaining moisture and tiding over a dry spell. 
When the bearing season is past the mulch can be 
forked under on a small bed, or in larger beds it 
can be taken away for other uses. 

As for varieties, I shall not undertake to give you 
anything like a complete list, simply because, be- 
fore my book gets to you, there will be other new 
and promising sorts on the market. Every year 
sends out two or three really good new sorts, and a 
good many more that deserve testing. Just at 

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eight] strawberries AND THEIR KIN 



present, if I were to set a strawberry bed, I would 
select for quite free planting Miller, Sample, 
Wm. Belt, Howell, Gandy, Senator Dunlap, and 
Glen Mary. These are all what we would class 
as medium early, excepting Gandy, which is one 
of the latest and one of the best. Miller makes a 
vrry large plant and is a strong rooter, the berry 
being "perfect" — that is, it does not need another 
variety to pollenize it. The plant is a great bearer 
and a great runner. The fruit is very large, round- 
ish, conical, bright red, and of excellent quality. 
Its ripening season is rather late than early. Sam- 
ple is, all in all, as good as any variety that I have 
tested. It is healthy, extremely productive, very 
large, and runs well. It is one of the varieties 
that make long, strong roots. The fruit is very 
large, dark, rich red in color, and in quality good. 
Wm. Belt is another thoroughly tested and univer- 
sally noble berry, perfect in the way of self-pollen- 
ization, bright red and glossy in color, very large, 
and of the highest quality. Its ripening season 
is a little after medium, although it gives some 
berries quite early. The plant is very large, and 
makes plenty of runners. Howell is a very tall- 
growing sort, with long fruit stems and with long 

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roots. The berry is quite large, and is borne in 
great quantities, while the quality is best. Gandy 
is a late berry, and very prolific — especially in clay 
soil. The plant is not very large, but sends out 
long runners, and is healthy. The fruit is excel- 
lent in quality, and of bright color — having a rich 
fragrance in the box. This is a good variety for 
those w^ho wish a strawberry bed to continue for 
several years. Glen Mary has given about as 
good satisfaction, in localities, as any berry ever 
planted. On clay soil and low ground this variety 
will be a failure ; but on well drained, or gravelly, 
or light, soil, it will be a great success. Plants are 
large and stocky; the berries are dark-colored and 
firm. It has been reported to yield 20,000 quarts 
to an acre. 

Another variety that is highly recommended is 
Ridgeway. This variety is held by some growers 
to be the very best on low, wet, or clay soil. It is 
a perfect pollenizer, and a very healthy plant. The 
fruit is medium size and very uniform. Brandy- 
wine is a very popular variety, with large, heart- 
shaped, bright-colored fruit, of excellent quality. 
With me it does not give heavy crops. Haver- 
land is a berry that is truly wonderful for the quan- 

[170] 



eight] strawberries AND THEIR KIN 



tity of fruit that it will yield. There are two trou- 
bles in connection with it: the berries are rather 
soft, and in a wet season the heavy stems tip over 
and rot, while in a dry season the plant is quickly 
affected, and the berries are small. Senator Dun- 
lap is a new variety of very high quality, yielding 
a huge crop of rather large berries, of splendid 
quality. It will also be good for a home bed, 
where sale is not thought of. Parsons' Beauty is 
another new sort that I have tried with satisfac- 
tion. The plant is very large, the foliage dark- 
colored, and the roots very long and strong. It 
yields immense crops of dark-red, conical berries. 
The quality of this berry is rather tart than sweet. 
Downing's Bride, sometimes called Kitty Rice, is 
another variety that can be recommended in high 
terms for a home garden. The fruit is large, of 
fine shape, and in quality probably not surpassed 
by any other. If you wish for a berry of the most 
remarkable size and quality, but a poor bearer 
unless grown in hills, take Marshall. Where you 
are petting your strawberry bed, this variety and 
Howell, grown side by side, will give you immense 
pleasure. Gibson is rather susceptible to frost, 
but is a wonderfully fine grower, while the berry is 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chaftek 



large, very rich red, and of good flavor. The 
Mark Hanna is a new sort, the crowning work of 
that veteran horticulturist, M. T. Thompson, of 
Rio Vista, Va. It is said to be extremely large, 
rich in flavor, and very beautiful. It is a good 
shipper, and promises to be every way democratic 
in adapting itself to soils. 

Rough Rider succeeds admirably as a very late 
berry on some soils. It is a strong-growing plant, 
and very productive of a high-colored fruit. Oom 
Paul is reported as doing finely. The plants are 
vigorous and the berry among the largest. How- 
ever, all these varieties, grand as they are, cannot 
displace the old Bubach — a variety that can be 
depended upon, almost everywhere, to give us 
splendid crops of the largest-sized berries, with 
only reasonable culture. The plant is very large, 
sending out just enough runners, and always 
healthy. 

I have named enough of the old and new vari- 
eties, and have given them a just description, but 
I have not named two or three sorts which will 
still require to be mentioned for those who will 
make strawberry growing for market a specialty. 
For these Warfield, Bismarck, and Gandy, with 

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eight] strawberries AND THEIR KIN 



Bubach and Clyde, constitute a quintette that can 
be relied upon; add, probably. Senator Dunlap. 

A good deal has been done recently to secure very 
early and very late sorts of strawberries. Nothing 
better than Gandy has been secured for very late; 
and for very early it is doubtful whether we have 
secured anything better than Michel's Early. 
Johnson's Early seems to be winning its way among 
good judges. In my own ground I rely upon my 
own seedlings, one of which, number 9, ripens close 
after Michel, and continues to bear nearly through 
the season. Excelsior is early, but useless on ac- 
count of acidity. Texas is a very early sort which 
may prove to be of extraordinary value. Palmer, 
I fear, is a failure ; I certainly get no fruit from it 
worth the ground it grows on. 

I recommend that you begin your small-fruit 
garden with a rather free planting of red raspberries, 
as these will be more easily grown than strawberries, 
giving you prompt returns, and can be relied upon 
for steady revenue. A field of red raspberries, 
properly cultivated, is good for ten years; I have 
continued a field for sixteen years. I do not advise 
the retention of old plants beyond ten or twelve 
years. The plants should be set in thoroughly clean 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



ground, well prepared and fertile, in rows five feet 
apart. The distance in the row must depend upon 
the variety that you are setting. Some of the fancy 
sorts, like Turner, give magnificent berries, and 
plenty of them, when grown in hills; but they will 
not yield enough to pay for their ground if grown 
in rows. On the other hand, the Cuthbert will do 
better in rows than in hills. The same is true of 
Golden Queen, which is a sport of Cuthbert. The 
canes when planted must be cut down close to the 
ground, so that new suckers shall be sent up from 
the roots. Nothing in the way of fruit can be ex- 
pected the first year; you must first grow your canes. 
If these are well cultivated with plow, cultivator, 
and hoe, you will have a fine lot of bearing canes, 
ready to give you a crop the second year from 
planting. 

After the picking season is over, you must go 
through your rows with a sharp corn knife, and cut 
out the old canes — leaving new ones to give you the 
next year's crop. When these canes are removed, 
fork them out of the rows, and burn them. Now 
drive stout stakes at the head of each row, and in- 
termediate stakes every twenty feet. Hitch wires 
to run on each side of your row, stapling them to 

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eight] strawberries AND THEIR KIN 



the intermediate poles, and then draw your new 
canes up between the wires, where they will be held 
firm, and not broken down by winter snow. You 
are ready next for clipping the tops of the canes — 
down to about four or five feet. You are now pre- 
pared for winter — unless your land lies so that fall 
plowing will be advisable. On hillsides, of course, 
you will not do fall plowing, for you will suffer too 
great loss by wash of winter and spring floods. If 
the ground lie level, by all means plow in October, 
throwing the dirt toward the plants. 

In the spring you will begin again with your 
plow, thoroughly working the soil and then run- 
ning your cultivator to level it. After this you will 
run the cultivator until close after picking season. 
However small your berry lot, I advise you to work 
it with plow and cultivator. The cultivator is of 
more value than all irrigating systems. It is even 
better than frequent showers. Keep it running, 
wherever you can, all summer. 

The best varieties of red raspberries for planting, 
either in large fields or in small, are the Cuthbert 
and Golden Queen, and Shaffer's Colossal. The 
Cuthbert made a revolution in raspberry growing, 
making it possible to grow three times as many 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



berries in a given space, of a larger size, easily port- 
able to market, and of a fairly good quality. The 
canes are not absolutely hardy, yet we are confi- 
dent of a fairly good annual crop of Cuthberts. 
Golden Queen is hardier in cane. The berry is 
a rich golden yellow, and quite as portable as its 
parent. No other yellow berry is worth the rais- 
ing, unless it be seedlings of the Golden Queen — 
which, I find, are quite likely to spring up in our 
fields. The Shaffer's Colossal is an enormously 
large, purple berry. It is a cross of the black rasp- 
berry with the red, and nearly all seedlings of it 
will revert to the black parent. I prefer it decid- 
edly to the Columbian, although the latter is a very 
strong grower, yielding enormous crops, and the 
berry is less perishable. Probably, if you are grow- 
ing for a distant market, you had better plant the 
Columbian. For canning the purple berries have 
a flavor quite preferable to the red, while the yellow 
sorts give a very different flavor, and do not hold 
substance well in the can. 

Another red sort of decided quality is the Turner. 
This berry is passing out of cultivation because it 
needs so much care. Still another excellent old 
variety is the Clarke. In a small, private garden 

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eight] strawberries AND THEIR KIN 



the Clarke and Turner, kept in hills, will delight 
the owner. The Loudon is a recent candidate for 
favor, and is a splendid berry for home use. It 
gives enormous crops, and the berry is of rich qual- 
ity, but if you are growing for market you will find 
the Loudon will hardly keep over night. The 
canes are not so tall as the Cuthbert, but they are 
frost-proof. The Marlboro is a very early sort, of 
a bright red color, and high flavored. It is all 
right for a small garden. A new variety just placed 
on the market, called the King, is said to be a very 
strong grower, very hardy and productive, while 
the berry is a good shipper and the color bright 
red. Most of our very early berries have proved 
to be rather weak in the cane. Haymaker is an- 
other recently introduced berry, which will prob- 
ably be very valuable for home use. It is soft but 
of high quality, and an enormous producer. 

My conviction is that those who make homes in 
the country should always be experimenting in the 
way of growing seedlings, and that with no plant 
are we more sure of fair, if not excellent, results, 
than the raspberry. I have been able to originate 
a large number of really good varieties of red and 
yellow sorts, which add a good deal to my pleasure 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



and to my profit. I do not think that, all in all, 
any one of them is preferable to Cuthbert or Golden 
Queen. With the black raspberry I have been 
even more successful. It is my custom to let the 
bird-sown seedlings in my vineyards grow until 
they can be trained to the trellises and show their 
quality. The result has been some remarkable 
new sorts. What we want now is a berry that will 
give us as heavy crops as the Cuthbert, with higher 
quality and an absolutely hardy cane. A purple 
as good as Shaffer, and absolutely hardy, is also 
desirable. However, Shaffer, although it kills 
back somewhat every year, is very sure of giving 
us a heavy crop. 

Of black raspberries I hesitate to name any vari- 
eties as most excellent. I should prefer to see you 
follow my suggestion in the way of growing seed- 
lings — provided you get your seed from the old 
Gregg, an enormous berry, but not hardy. Per- 
haps the best early black raspberry that we can 
purchase from the nurseryman is the Kansas. It 
is a strong, vigorous grower, enduring most ex- 
treme cold and droughts, and bearing enormous 
crops. The berries are very large, jet black, and of 
splendid quality. , So far as I have grown, the best 

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eight] strawberries AND THEIR KIN 



late variety is the Nemaha. This is a favorite 
berry for market, because the fruit is of the highest 
quaHty, and carries well. The bushes are very 
strong growers, very healthy, and quite hardy. A 
new variety called the Cumberland is said to be the 
largest of all blackcaps. It is probably a seedling 
of the Gregg, and very much like that variety. The 
canes are stout and stocky, producing immense 
crops. The probabilities are that we shall have 
new seedlings in this family of blacks — that is, the 
Gregg family — covering the whole season, and 
even preferable to those I have named. A very 
common and very excellent sort is the Palmer — a 
berry that ripens among the very earliest. 

It is impossible for those who have small gar- 
dens, and pay little attention to them, to grow 
black raspberries with any such freedom as they 
grow red. The red reproduces itself by suckers, 
and in that way the old rows can be sustained for 
years by simply cutting out annually the dead 
canes. The black raspberry, on the contrary, 
propagates only by rooting at the tips of the canes. 
If you desire to multiply them, you must see that 
the tips touch the ground and are not disturbed 
while rooting. An old stool of black raspberries 

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will not last more than three years in a bearing 
condition. 

The blackberry is ugly in its disposition, and in 
its cane has yielded least of all to civilization. It is 
curious that this magnificent fruit has come along 
down to us with so many friends, yielding such a 
delicious fruit, but in no way giving up its defense 
against the enemies that it had in the wild state. 
Old Humphrey says, however, that "Ye black- 
berry is a prime teacher of patience and endurance. 
It scratcheth and teareth, in order that it may make 
us sweeter-tempered. Whoever filleth his pail with 
this delightful fruit, will go home cheerful in spite 
of ye tatters and ye thorns." In our gardens we 
are getting some magnificent varieties, if we only 
knew where to put them. I have found it con- 
venient to have a double row of blackberries grow- 
ing along a side of my property which is easily en- 
tered by strolling boys. I find that since these have 
grown the lads have forgotten where my vineyard 
is. They will walk many a rod further, on their 
route to the swimming pond, rather than under- 
take to cross my lot. The blackberry needs a 
moist place, but never wet, and it demands deep, 
rich, strong soil. I have grown it without culti- 

[180] 



EIGHT] STRAWBERRIES AND THEIR KIN 



vating, allowing it, after the first two or three years, 
to fill up the whole lot with canes and take care of 
itself. This plan will work very well on a long, 
narrow strip. All you have to do is to cut out 
the old canes each year and burn them ; then with 
your hedge shears cut off the tops of the canes 
down to about six feet. It is, however, wiser, if 
you intend to grow the finest berries, to keep the 
plants in rows and thoroughly cultivate. 

The best varieties in my grounds, and I have 
tried and tested nearly all the new ones for the last 
thirty years, are the Eldorado and the Ancient 
Briton, with Snyder — a grand sort if the season is 
all right. Unfortunately, if the season be very dry, 
the Snyder will give very small berries, with few 
drupes. I should not undertake to grow the Sny- 
der without careful cultivation. The Eldorado is 
a strong, stiff cane, bearing enormous crops of de- 
licious fruit. The Kittatinny is a variety not easily 
to be rejected, although it kills back more or less 
each winter. It is a magnificent fruit, and has a 
habit of bearing somewhat through the autumn 
months. Most of the advertised sorts are quite 
tender and utterly worthless, excepting south of 
New York State. As a rule, do not plant a black- 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



berry that grows with a sprawling cane. The 
Wachusetts is advertised as thornless, but is not. 
The Wilson and Rathburn varieties are undoubt- 
edly extremely valuable in some sections. The 
Agawam is a very sweet berry, but of a sprawling 
growth. The Taylor is one of the best in flavor. 
I have a seedling of my own, which I call Red 
Jacket, that resembles the Snyder, but is superior 
to that variety. Several new berries are just com- 
ing into the market, and of these I judge that 
Blower's will prove to be of the highest quality 
and value. 

The planting and the culture of the blackberry 
are very similar to that of the raspberry. You 
must cut back the canes when planted, close to the 
ground; set in rows at least eight feet apart, and 
plant one foot in the row. Run your cultivator 
rather shallow among your blackberries, so as to 
break the roots as little as possible. These roots 
make a mat throughout the whole soil. They will 
not trouble you much in running down hill, but will 
run up hill with rapidity. Keep the soil rich with 
wood ashes and plenty of compost, that I have de- 
scribed elsewhere. Barnyard manure will do no 
harm as a rule, while it serves also as a mulch. 

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eight] strawberries AND THEIR KIN 



The secret of great productiveness is heavy feed- 
ing. I have not mentioned the dewberry, because 
I cannot recommend you to plant it. Its culture 
is about the same as the common blackberry, ex- 
cept that it must be tied to stakes. If allowed to 
crawl in its natural manner, the vines must be laid 
upon brush or straw. The fruit is grand, and 
comes earlier than the blackberry. After many 
years of trial I have dug all sorts out of my ground 
— so far as I can get them out. 

Strawberry blight must be met by a prompt, 
thorough, and frequent application of Bordeaux 
Mixture. Raspberry and blackberry rust require 
prompt digging out of the plants and burning. This 
rust indicates a previous enfeebled vitality, and in 
all probability a lack of proper food. Anthracnose 
is another raspberry and blackberry disease, which 
requires a thorough application of iron sulphate 
before the leafage in spring, and applications of 
Bordeaux frequently, later. 

To have all the strawberries and blackberries 
that you want for a single year without paying for 
them will be a novel experience. You will send 
a few specially fine baskets to your city friends as 
an aggravation to their lot, and as a lure to win 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



them out into God's country. You will boast of 
your Bubachs and Samples and Senator Dunlaps 
— twenty to a quart. Your strawberry dishes will 
be frequently enlarged in size, and so also will your 
cream pitchers. We do not do things on so small 
a scale out in the country. My cream pitcher holds 
a quart. 

Currants and gooseberries are not in the Ros- 
acese family, but they are so closely associated with 
them in home use and market that they must find 
a place in this chapter. There are several species 
of currants grown by American gardeners. The 
ribes rubrum includes all the red and white vari- 
eties, and ribes nigrum the black varieties. The 
growth of all varieties and the culture is about the 
same. The currant likes a moist soil, but not wet, 
and clay in preference to sand. It will, however, 
grow in almost any soil, with proper tillage. But 
to do its best the currant must be abundantly fed. 
I apply my compost either late in the fall or early 
in the spring. Thoroughly decomposed barnyard 
manure is excellent for the currant, if applied at the 
same season as the compost. The black currant 
is rather more drooping in growth, and needs to be 
set somewhat wider in the row than the red and 

[184] 



eight] strawberries AND THEIR KIN 



white varieties. There is, however, quite a differ- 
ence in the several varieties of white and red. 
Some of them are very erect, like Cherry, and 
others very decidedly spreading, like the Ver- 
sailles and Fay. I should set my currants in rows, 
about five or six feet apart, and three feet in the 
row. If you wish to cultivate both ways, set your 
plants about five feet apart each way. 

For varieties select, first of all, for home use, 
White Grape and Versailles. The White Grape 
is a yellowish-white currant, of most delicious 
quality and large size, and it is prolific in its 
bearing. The Versailles is, in my judgment, the 
very model of red currants for beauty, bunch, 
growth, and quality of fruit. Fay's Prolific is an- 
other red variety, scarcely to be distinguished from 
Versailles, except that the bush is not so firm and 
erect. It is a very popular currant, but not one 
whit better than Versailles in any respect, and not 
so good in a few particulars. Among the newer 
varieties North Star is recommended as having 
long stems; White Imperial as being an improve- 
ment on White Grape; London Market as being 
extremely vigorous in growth and an enormous 
cropper; Pomona as being an enormous yielder of 

[185] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

small-sized fruit; Perfection as being an improve- 
ment on Fay, with the flavor of the White Grape, 
while Wilder is a very strong grower, and very pro- 
ductive, rivaling the Fay in size. All of these that 
I have tried are either inferior to White Grape and 
Versailles, or nearly identical with them, I am in- 
clined to think that Perfection, at least, will be an 
improvement. It was originated by C. C. Hooker, 
of Rochester, N. Y., and is a cross of Fay with 
White Grape. Of black currants the Champion 
has been generally planted, but Black Victoria is 
an improvement in productiveness, flavor, and size 
of the berry. 

Currant seedlings are easily started, and, if seed 
is selected from the choicest varieties, we are sure 
to get interesting results. Some day we are to 
have a currant as large as a gooseberry or cherry, 
but I do not think we shall ever improve the flavor 
of the White Grape. Among my own seedlings I 
have a bush that stands seven feet high, with di- 
ameter of five to six feet, perfect branching, and 
bearing enormous loads of fruit equal in size to 
Fay. 

The gooseberry should be grown almost all ways 
precisely like the currant. The rows should run, 

[186] 



eight] strawberries AND THEIR KIN 



if possible, north and south, allowing the sun very 
freely to reach the fruit. At the same time it must 
be borne in mind that a very hot June will some- 
times blister a large part of the crop and ruin it. 
The best soil for the gooseberry is clay; in fact, it 
will never give its best results on sandy soil. For 
manures apply strong compost, with ashes or barn- 
yard manure that is thoroughly decomposed. 

The gooseberry starts into growth very early in 
the spring, and must, therefore, be planted very 
early. Set in rows, about six feet apart; or, if to be 
cultivated both ways, the plants must be five feet 
apart each way. The trimming of the gooseberry 
must be somewhat unlike that of the currant, as it 
bears best on young wood. In the case of the cur- 
rant we remove nearly all the suckers each year; 
but with the gooseberry we cut out the oldest wood 
and the weakest suckers. We must prune, also, to 
encourage upright growth, cutting away the most 
drooping stems. The English gooseberry will 
thrive best where there is partial shade. I find 
that gooseberries, as well as currants, give admir- 
able results when planted in rows between grape 
trellises. Our American varieties are not all of 
them of pure, native blood. Several of them are 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



wildings, bird-sown probably, from European sorts 
grown in gardens. These are likely to show their 
English parentage and refuse to endure a very hot 
sun. I have one variety, found in a pasture lot, 
which ripens a brilliant scarlet fruit one week ear- 
lier than any other gooseberry, but it positively de- 
mands shade. 

Among the best foreign varieties are Keepsake, 
a very large, straw-colored berry, and an immense 
cropper with ordinary care — a delicious fruit. 
Lancashire Lad is another English variety, bright 
red in color, very large, and of superb quality. 
Whitesmith and Crown Bob are two more choice 
English sorts. The most commonly planted is 
Industry. The berries of this sort are of the larg- 
est size, of excellent flavor, and dark red in color. 
The bush is a strong, upright grower and a great 
cropper, but the berries are hairy, and, to my taste, 
inferior to some of the others. Among our Ameri- 
can varieties, the best known are Houghton and 
Downing, neither of which would I recommend 
you to plant. Columbus is a fruit of much larger 
size, handsome, greenish-yellow, and of the finest 
quality. The bush is a strong grower, and not at all 
subject to mildew. Josselyn is an American seed- 

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eight] strawberries AND THEIR KIN 



ling of good size, very hardy, and of fine quality. 
Among my own seedlings I have not only the early 
one, mentioned above, but another that ripens its 
fruit in September. There is something very at- 
tractive about the effort to grow improved varieties 
of these small fruits. They come into bearing 
when young, and if not worth the keeping we have 
wasted little time and space in the effort. I wish 
more people knew what a grand fruit the goose- 
berry is at its best. Gooseberry jelly is one of the 
most delicious with which the housekeeper stores 
her cupboard. 

The propagation of gooseberries and currants is 
identical. Take cuttings in the fall, as soon as the 
wood is ripened, seven to ten inches long. Propa- 
gators generally put these in bundles, in a cool cel- 
lar, over winter. I prefer planting them at once 
— setting them obliquely, in clean ground, in a fur- 
row where they can be two-thirds under ground. 
Draw the dirt on, and ram it down very tightly. 
When done the row should stand a little above the 
level of the soil, to avoid the settling of water dur- 
ing the winter. The cuttings should be about one 
inch apart in the row. It is easy to multiply either 
gooseberries or currants by layers, or an old bush 

[189] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



may be pulled to pieces, making a large mimber of 
new ones. When planting your currants and 
gooseberries set them quite deep in the soil. In 
another chapter I have referred to the insects that 
attack these plants, and have given the remedy. 

I do not like to leave my small-fruit garden ; in- 
deed, were you here in June, July, or August, you 
would find me, pretty surely, among my berries. 
They add largely to the profit as well as pleasure of 
a country home, but nowhere else will you need 
to exercise more clean culture and common sense. 
The strawberry abhors a shiftless man, and gives 
him only nubbins. The raspberry and the black- 
berry revert to their wild habits and become 
thickets on the least provocation. 



[190] 



CHAPTER NINE 

TONS OF GRAPES 



1 HE one fruit that, next to apples, should con- 
stitute a prime article of diet, is the grape. Not 
only in the vineyard can we have tons, but literally 
tons more on our buildings, and still other tons on 
our trees, rockeries, stone walls, fences, stumps, 
and arbors. The best grapes can be made to 
climb trees and cover our barns as easily as the 
wild ones. In this way utility combines with beauty. 
Vines grow quickly and come soon to bearing. 
If the market is poor, eat grapes, and let the chil- 
dren have all they desire. It is cheaper and better 
food than meat and vegetables, and they never tire 
of it. I recommend that you go out before break- 
fast and sample a half dozen sorts; repeat the ex- 
periment before dinner, and, if the digestion is 
poor, take nothing else for supper. Take an en- 
thusiastic friend with you, and make notes, dis- 
cuss and compare, and so your vineyard will be an 
annex to your library and study. 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



The evolution of grapes and grape growing has 
been marvelous. About forty years ago a single 
carload glutted the New York market; now a car- 
load a day is dropped into consumption without a 
ripple. A single good-sized family can use a ton 
of grapes in the course of a single year — for jellies, 
marmalades and dessert. Vast areas are now given 
to growing grapes, yet the price seldom drops so 
low as to make the business unprofitable. The 
Concord was discovered about 1850; the Delaware 
was disseminated by Mr. Campbell, of Delaware, 
Ohio, a little later. These two grapes made us in- 
dependent of foreign sorts, and began a revolution, 
so that now a good grape catalogue will offer over 
one hundred standard varieties. Most of these are 
hybrids, or crossbreds, produced by the attentive 
skill of men who deserve from their country higher 
plaudits than generals and admirals. Rogers' 
Hybrids numbered over half a hundred, and were 
followed by Dr. Grant's delicious lona and Israella; 
and then by Rickett's seedlings, which include such 
superb grapes as Jefferson. Just now Mr. Mun- 
son, of Texas, is at work adding such grand achieve- 
ments as Brilliant, Headlight, and Wapanuka. 
Mr. Moore, of Western New York, has added two 

[ 192 ] 



NINE] TONS OF GRAPES 

remarkable productions, Moore's Early and Dia- 
mond. 

Looking over select lists of grapes, I often won- 
der if we hopelessly differ in our tastes, or if those 
who make the lists have ever tasted the grapes they 
advertise so confidently. I have grown eighty vari- 
eties, besides a large number of seedlings of my 
own, and I am constantly compelled to protest 
against the dissemination of many of those that are 
sent out as of the highest quality. 

If set down to the selection of half a dozen best 
grapes, I should begin with Worden, black; Herbert, 
black; Niagara, white; Hayes, white; Eldorado, 
white; Brighton, red; and Lindley, red. Already I 
am running over my number, yet am loth to leave 
out Goertner. Lady is as good a white grape as has 
yet been produced, and it is the earliest of all good 
sorts, but with me it bears very few and poor clus- 
ters. I think the difficulty is largely due to lack of 
self-pollenization. I have not found it easy to sup- 
ply this lack. Jefferson should come into the list 
of prime sorts for a homestead as far north as South- 
ern New York. It does not always ripen in this 
latitude, although the vine and fruit are perfectly 
hardy. In all the list of excellent varieties the two 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



that are nearest to ironclad are Golden Pockling- 
ton and Moore's Early — both of which rank close 
up to the select half dozen. Moore's Early is a 
noble grape every way, in the growth of the 
vine, in hardiness, in size of bunch and grape, and 
in prolific bearing — after it once begins to give 
fruit. The Pocklington is equally grand, both in 
vine and fruit. It needs, however, a long season to 
bring it into perfection, not being fully ripe before 
about October 10th. It cannot, therefore, be rec- 
ommended as far north as Massachusetts, and 
Central New York, Northern Ohio, and Michigan, 
except in sheltered localities. Agawam and Diana 
are two of the best keepers, and Agawam is cer- 
tainly one of the best grapes for vineyard culture. 
I have heard good judges pronounce the lona 
the very best grape in existence, but, unfortunately, 
the lona is quite tender in northern latitudes. By 
covering the vines with leaves or compost I am 
able to secure some noble bunches that are 
unexcelled in their winelike flavor. Others, going 
through my vineyard, are quite emphatic that the 
best of all grapes is the Herbert. It certainly is one 
of the richest of all our grapes, but, like most of 
Rogers' Hybrids, it is not a self-pollenizer. In my 

[ 194 ] 



NINE] TONS OF GRAPES 



selectest list I have placed Worden. This grape is 
a positive marvel. It is a seedling of Concord, but, 
unlike that grape, it is sweet as soon as colored, 
while a Concord is sour until it has reached the 
stage of shiny blackness. The Worden may be 
classed as the very best early black, and Herbert as 
the best late black. Niagara is another magnifi- 
cent production, carrying its huge bunches, in pro- 
digious quantities, on vines that are remarkably 
healthy. Lindley and Brighton are incomparably 
fine among the red grapes, but each has its draw- 
backs. Lindley is very long-jointed, and not a per- 
fect self-pollenizer; in fact, quite defective, while 
Brighton is the poorest self-pollenizer in the whole 
list. Large vineyards of this grape were planted in 
the Hudson valley, and were plowed out by the in- 
dignant owners before they found that it needed 
a good neighbor, like Worden. Goertner is a 
much better self-pollenizer, but not quite perfect. 

I should include Diamond in my list of the very 
best varieties, if it were not so irregular in its date 
of ripening, and, when ripe, were not so variable in 
quality, while to this we must add that the vine is 
unusually susceptible to disease. For running 
headlong over rocks, and climbing over arbors, 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



August Giant is one of the very best vines, and the 
grape is of better quality than the average Con- 
cord; it ripens, however, in October, and never in 
August. Delaware is a delicate grape, of rather 
weak growth, unless the soil is of the best and cul- 
ture equally good. 

Among the sorts of later introduction there are 
several varieties of the highest quality, and ulti- 
mately to be ranked with the very best I have 
named. Colerain is a seedling of Concord, a white 
grape, very sweet, ripening very early, and keeping 
very late — or through the grape season. Esther, 
Nectar, and Rockwood are three more of very fine 
quality; Rockwood I especially admire for its rich 
quality. Nectar holds its clusters long after ripe, 
and is a grand family grape. Campbell's Early 
has jumped into favor, and is a good rival of 
Moore's Early. The McPike is an enormous 
bunch and berry, of high quality and recent intro- 
duction. 

Massasoit is a very early and fine red grape, 
which I throw out with regret because of its ten- 
dency to rot, while the Concord must be rejected 
where it does not get time to entirely sv/eeten its 
juices. It can easily and fully be superseded by 

[ 196 ] 



nine] tons of grapes 



Worden. In the grape sections, such as around 
Lake Keuka, of course Catawba will hold its own. 
Niagara is not quite equal in quality to Hayes, and 
it has no advantage over that variety except its 
huge bunches. The Hayes is one of the earliest to 
ripen, and is of most delicious quality. I am sorry 
to say that Niagara, when it reaches market, is very 
seldom thoroughly ripe — not so ripe as to bring 
out its entire sweetness and richness. Eldorado 
has proved, with me, not a very prolific bearer, 
but its quality is very similar to Hayes — that is, 
best. 

In our Northern States we do not care for grapes 
to ripen much before the middle of September. If 
they do, they are very sure to be attacked by the 
oriole, who does his work recklessly, spoiling ten 
times as much as he eats. Fortunately, this bird 
has gone South by the first of September — he is 
very regular about it — and we are glad to bid him 
good-by. The beautiful but pert rascal drops 
down in flocks on his way South and adds to the 
destruction wrought by our home birds, immense 
quantities of bunches being picked to pieces, for 
the hornets and honey bees to finish. 

For Southern States a different list is needed. 

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Mr. Munson, of Texas, who is one of the very best 
fruit authorities in the United States, selects, 
among other varieties, for the belt reaching from 
Delaware through Tennessee and Missouri, and 
south of that state, Moore's Early, Worden, Bril- 
liant, Green Mountain ; and for south of Tennessee, 
Worden, Niagara, Herbemont, Scuppernong, and 
Gold Coin. It will be seen that Worden and Ni- 
agara come very near being cosmopolitan grapes, 
while Moore's Early follows close after. Another 
good authority places among the best varieties for 
the Gulf States Concord, Niagara, Moore's Early, 
Goethe, Lindley. Goethe is a superb grape, but in 
the North needs covering for the winter; even at 
the best, we very rarely get the full quality of 
such a grape in our colder climes. 

The grape does not need special soil, nor half so 
much special knowledge as the books imply. All 
the varieties I have named will grow in any good 
garden soil. Terraces on steep hillsides are all 
right with imported soil, but they are not at all 
necessary. Most of the Chautauqua vineyards f acft 
the north, but I should prefer that my vineyard 
face east or south, if possible. I like a location 
that will absorb a good deal of heat during the day, 

[198] 



nine] tons of grapes 



and carry safely through the frosty nights. My 
own location is on a hillside, somewhat valleyed 
out, and generally facing the southeast. I escape 
the late spring frosts and early autumn frosts, that 
touch my neighbors half a mile above, or down in 
the bottom of the valley. This sort of location, if 
possible, is good for all garden and orchard pur- 
poses. 

Set your vines about eight or ten feet apart in 
the row, and the rows ten feet apart. This allows 
a row of currants between, which do not cut off the 
sun from the grapes. It is absolutely essential to 
have the full force of the sun for perfecting the 
grape. Plant two-year-old vines, and buy of the 
very best nurserymen, directly — and not through 
agents. Generally it is preferable to set in the 
spring, because the ground is easily got into good 
shape. If you set in the fall, mulch with coal ashes 
— not with straw, that mice might nest in — and 
leave it slightly heaped about the vines. Cut back 
each vine to two eyes; then spread the roots care- 
fully, and pack the dirt tightly, until you come to 
the mulch, which you leave lying loosely, and, as I 
said, slightly mounded. Your trellis will be wanted 
the second year, and should be made of posts set 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



by every third or fourth vine, and with three wires 
fastened to the posts with staples. When such a 
trelhs is done, it is practically a high fence. The 
bottom wire is generally placed from two to three 
feet from the ground, the top wire at six feet. I 
grow my vines a good deal higher than market- 
men, because I wish to lift them above berries. 

The fact is, you will not find the grape a good sur- 
plus crop for market when grown on a small home 
lot, and with usual care. The great shippers can 
afford to sell for prices that would not compensate 
you for your care and expense. Twenty years ago 
I sold my surplus of Delawares and Rogers' Hy- 
brids for eight to ten cents a pound. Now when 
I go into market they will not bring me over three 
or four cents a pound. I find it convenient, and 
quite as profitable, to invite a dozen or twenty 
stalwart college boys to spend two or three hours 
of Sunday afternoon with me, during October 
and November — discussing books, grapes, and 
manhood. I am sure that no grapes ever found 
more appreciative customers. All in all, I advise 
you to grow just as many grapes as you can con- 
sume, having a small surplus for fancy market 
and enough to give away. 

[ i200 ] 



NINE] TONS OF GRAPES 

I shall not undertake to expound the systems of 
trimming grapes, because for the most part these 
systems are puzzles. Experts quarrel over their 
favorite methods. I will refer you to Bailey's Cy- 
clopedia of Horticulture for a description of the 
systems most in favor. A still better way will be 
to visit a good vineyard — in the Chautauqua sec- 
tion, or Hudson valley section, or in Northern Ohio, 
or in Missouri, and see the work in operation. 
There is, however, nothing more important in grape 
growing than thorough trimming. This should be 
done in late autumn, or winter, or very early in the 
spring, before the sap starts. All vines, of all 
varieties, will be better for being laid down in the 
winter. This is all that I do with my varieties, ex- 
cept the Duchess, lona, Goethe, and Delaware, 
which are carefully covered. Concords and Dela- 
wares are too poor for the time spent on them. 
If you grow them at all in the North, you will get 
the sweetest from vines that climb hand over hand, 
in a wild way, up the trees. A few of the late- 
ripening grapes, such as Jefferson and lona and 
Goethe and Pocklington, may be grown on the 
south side of the barn, in a glass house, but the 
vines carried up through the roof and trained on 

[201] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



the side of the barn. This will very much increase 
their hardiness, and hasten their coming to ma- 
turity. I have them growing in a peach house, and 
carried up as I describe. Sweetwater grapes and 
Black Hamburgs may be treated in the same way. 

To grow grapes on your barns and outbuildings 
they should be planted about ten feet apart, and as 
they grow they must be protected from animals by 
a stout wire netting. When they are high above 
danger of browsing, box in the trunk of the vine 
with boards ; then spread the arms over the barn or 
other building, on wires stapled crosswise. These 
wires should be about two or three feet apart, and 
on no account should the vines be fastened directly 
to the building. Tie the vines to the wires, and 
when you desire to let them down you have only 
to clip the strings. The wires will not hinder you 
from repainting your building. All other climbing 
vines, such as roses, clematis, bittersweet, should 
be treated in the same way. Be very sure that 
grapes like Brighton or Lindley, if run over your 
buildings, have good neighbors to pollenize them 
— otherwise you will have your labor without com- 
pensation. 

The art of keeping grapes depends upon (1) 

[ 202 ] 



nine] tons of grapes 



picking them just when fully ripe, not over- ripe; 
(2) removing every defective berry, and handling 
the bunches very tenderly; (3) packing in clean 
baskets, holding six or eight quarts, about half full, 
and with thick, brown paper above and below; 
(4) carrying at once to a cool, dry room — but not 
a drying room. On the other hand, a warm cellar 
will not do at all, and rarely any cellar. The stor- 
age room should be closed and dark. There should 
be no odors of any sort about, for grapes are very 
quick to absorb evil odors. I had used tarred 
paper to ceil my fruit cellar, and in a single week's 
storage every grape was spoiled and apples were 
damaged. (5) Wrap, if you will, each bunch in 
tissue paper. (6) Look over your baskets once in 
two weeks, and use them according to their ten- 
dency to decay. You will soon discover which of 
your varieties are good keepers, and I know that 
you will decide upon Agawam, Diana, Alice, as 
among the best, while Worden, although thin- 
skinned, if very carefully handled is not a bad 
keeper. Catawba is, of course, our best long- 
keeping grape, although I find among my seed- 
lings from Herbert, Diana and Hayes some very 
good rivals of Catawba. With these very simple 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



precautions, and without cold storage, I am able 
to have grapes till the end of January. 

I have said tons of grapes advisedly, for you can, 
by following my suggestions, grow half a ton on 
your barn, and another half ton on your arbors and 
house. The season can be extended from Septem- 
ber first to February or March, and so you will 
find that your home consumption will be some- 
thing enormous each year. I have recently read 
an article on longevity by a French physician of 
note; he says: "Live in the country if possible; eat 
little meat; eat fruit freely every day, before break- 
fast and before dinner, and especially let your die- 
tary include cherries, apples and grapes ; go to bed 
early, and rise early; keep your temper, and be 
cheerful. There is no reason why you may not 
live one hundred years. In old age one may live 
almost entirely on fruit, cereals and nuts." If my 
book induces every reader to plant a vine of Wor- 
den, another of Niagara, and another of Brighton, 
I shall have added to the health and happiness and 
longevity of mankind. 



[204] 



CHAPTER TEN 

AMONG THE FLOWERS 



1 HERE is no possible floral display like an orchard 
of apples, pears, plums, and cherries — and peaches 
if you can grow them. Yet it is an easy matter in 
the country to have a shrubbery and a flower gar- 
den. I say easy because you must not lay out for 
so much work and care that you will get weary of 
your best things. Fifty years ago vegetable gar- 
dens were worked with a spade, and flower gar- 
dens our mothers dug with a knife — digging forks 
and trowels were unknown. Sunflowers, nastur- 
tiums and hollyhocks grew in the vegetable gar- 
den, but the pinks, cinnamon roses, and annuals 
came with the most terrible backache. I shall try 
to tell you what flowers will be most satisfactory, 
and at the same time most easily grown. 

Waste very little time on inferior things, for in the 
country you will have enough to do to fully and en- 
joy ably occupy every hour. Be prompt to throw 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



aside coarser plants that do not add to the refine- 
ment of your lawn. For this reason I discard bal- 
sams and zinnias, holding that the despised nose 
has special rights in a flower garuen. But we shall 
do well to go farther, as most of the annuals take 
more time and room than they are worth. The 
culture of flowers ought always to go on with the 
culture of ourselves. When we discard second- 
rate things it shows that we are growing; the flower 
garden is enlightening us, and not merely pleasing 
us. 

Do not be too sure that single flowers are always 
the more beautiful. There is beauty in geometry 
and mathematics ; so there is in the symmetrical ar- 
rangement of dahlia petals, and in the fine art of 
the General Jack rose. Some flowers are more 
beautiful in their single specimens, because only in 
these can the fine penciling of nature be displayed 
— as in the gladiolus and the salpiglossis. A dou- 
ble hollyhock may, however, be the climax of shad- 
ing and color, as well as of artistic arrangement. 

Of course every woman who makes a country 
home will have her favorite flowers, which she will 
desire to multiply; then in all neighborhoods there 
are flowers which have secured a special welcome, 

[ 206 ] 



ten] among the flowers 



and these will be adopted. After fifty years of 
flower growing, I have a list of favorites that I can- 
not get along without. One of these, if not the 
first of all, is the old-fashioned nasturtium — a flow- 
er that never says enough, that will give you con- 
tinuous bloom, in profusion, from June till frost. 
As it grows low on the ground, it can be covered 
easily through half a dozen frosts, till there comes 
a freeze. The fragrance is wholesome, and the 
flower lasts long when cut. You can cut sprigs as 
freely as you please, and they will not be missed 
from the bed. The sweet pea well grown, as it sel- 
dom is grown, is one of the most charming plants 
in the world. I have it on trellises eight feet high, 
and from these we gather constantly great bunches 
of flowers through four months of the year. The 
trellises are just far enough apart to admit of free 
passage and sunshine. If the aster were sweet it 
would rank among the noblest of our flowers; as it 
is, few can compete with it in clean, bright, good- 
hearted blooms, coming in the cool autumn months, 
and not easily frozen. I like best those flowers that 
mark evolution, and this the asters do admirably. 
So also do the perennial phloxes — one of the 
grandest of all our flowers for country homes. But 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



just now perhaps sweet peas mark the very finest 
work, the genius and the patience of our best 
horticulturists. Brains also have been put into 
new cannas and gladioli; and what a supreme 
poem is such a rose as Virginia Coxe, or Balduin — 
a poem written equally by an inspired hand and 
soul! 

The tulip is my special delight, nor can I ever 
get too many of them, everywhere about my land. 
Let me tell you a secret. When you set a bed of 
strawberries, push tulips down four inches deep in 
all the rows, and six inches apart. Here they will 
blossom early in the spring, before the strawberries 
blossom, and they will get out of the way, all but a 
dry stalk, before you pick your berries in June. In 
this way you will have the most magnificent floral 
display, without decreasing in the slightest degree 
your crop of fruit. I am planting this year not less 
than a full bushel of bulbs in my new beds. Once 
in about three years your strawberry bed will have 
worn out, and must be renewed; dig tulips also 
once in three years, and follow up your new straw- 
berry beds. They multiply with great rapidity, 
and if you dig ever so carefully some bulbs will be 
left in the soil, so that in time tulips will show 

[208] 



TEN] AMONG THE FLOWERS 



wherever a strawberry bed has been, even twenty 
years before — in gardens or in grass. They will do 
no harm, but will glorify your property, while you 
will be able to pick them by the armful. This is 
the way to have all that you can want of this mag- 
nificent flower, all that you can admire, and all that 
you can give away. Besides, you can sell or give 
away the bulbs by the hundred, and start an honest 
tulip mania all around the town. If this chapter 
does no other good than to teach you how to grow 
tulips easily, and enough of them, it will be quite 
enough to repay me for writing it. 

A good collection of roses is much more rare 
than it ought to be. I am afraid that this is be- 
cause growers confuse buyers with indiscriminate 
praise of hundreds of sorts, most of which need 
special culture. It is also in part due to the fact 
that we cannot cure country people of the habit of 
entertaining agents and buying their extraordinary 
and impossible offerings. As a rule, these peri- 
patetic peddlers are rogues. Their promises are 
high colored, but the products are just the other 
way. A good list of roses for a quiet country home 
would be, of June flowering varieties. Crimson 
Rambler, Cabbage, Mad. Plantier, Yellow Ram- 

[209] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



bier, the Wichuriana varieties ; and, if there be still 
room, don't forget the old Damask and the Cinna- 
mon. The Wichuriana is a recent importation 
from Japan, with beautiful, glossy foliage, and cov- 
ered with large single flowers in June. Hybrids 
give crimson flowers and pink flowers, some of 
which are double. They all run rapidly by suck- 
ering, and are most admirable for covering rough 
places or filling in among rocks. These Japan 
roses are not particular about soil, or about any- 
thing else. They are people's roses. The old Cab- 
bage rose deserves a place, not only for its beauty, 
but from association with our mothers and fathers. 
It is, however, a grand rose in itself, and quite 
hardy. Crimson Rambler and its children are 
marvels of florescense. Considering that they are 
almost absolutely hardy, nothing can be better for 
a blossoming hedge or to border a walk, only 
remember to have sweet peas or some other climb- 
ing flower to follow later in the season. These 
can grow on the same frames, and not be in the 
way until the Ramblers are through blooming. 

A thoroughly good list of Hybrid-Perpetual roses 
might include one hundred varieties. I will name 
sixteen sorts that will give you entire satisfaction. 

[210] 



TEN] AMONG THE FLOWERS 



These are, Alfred Colomb, Louis VanHoute, Victor 
Verdier, Anna de Diesbach, Chas. Lefebre, Coun- 
tess of Oxford, Gen. Jacqueminot, Mrs. John 
Laing, Paul Neron, Margaret Dickson, American 
Beauty, Francois Levet, Dinsmore, Vick's Caprice, 
Ulrich Brunner, Prince Camille de Rohan. This 
list leaves out a host of good ones, but it will prob- 
ably be larger than most of my readers will need to 
plant. Special favorites with me are General 
Jack, Dinsmore, Ulrich Brunner, Jules Margotin, 
Alfred Colomb. Perhaps these will be all that you 
can afford. 

Of nearly hardy roses there is an immense list, 
and where your protection is fairly good they make 
the most satisfactory plants because always in 
bloom. My list begins with that grand rose, La 
France, followed by Kaiserin Augusta Victoria, 
Clothilde Soupert, Malmaison, Balduin, Liberty, 
Hermosa, Virginia Coxe, Meteor, Perle de Jardins, 
Papa Gontier, Mrs. Robert Peary, President Car- 
not, Maria Guillot, Belle Seibrecht, Mad. Abel 
Chatenay, Souvenir de Wootton, Mad. Caroline 
Testout. Here again we are leaving out many fine 
roses — more than we are including — but the list in- 
cludes some of the very best and hardiest. If you 

[211] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chaptek 



can only plant half a dozen, take Hermosa, Bal- 
duin, Liberty, Clothilde Soupert, Mrs. Robert 
Peary, Virginia Coxe. The grandest new rose of 
1903 in my bed was Gen. Mac Arthur, and the 
best of the previous year was Virginia Coxe. 

The hybrid tea-roses are practically hardy, re- 
quiring only hilling up in winter, although among 
them there are degrees of power to resist the frost. 
On the whole, this is one of the very best classes of 
roses for general planting. It has the advantage of 
giving us very sweet flowers and perpetual bloom, 
with a considerable degree of hardiness. Among 
the best new ones are Admiral Dewey, Admiral 
Schley, Clara Watson, Antoine Revoire, White 
Lady, Mrs. W. C. Whitney, and Mad. Jules Fin- 
ger. Quite hardy, also, and exceedingly fine are the 
Madame Cochet set — the yellow, the white, the 
red, and the pink flowering. If you wish for three 
exceedingly fine and hardy climbers, select Climb- 
ing Meteor, Climbing Wootton, and Climbing Clo- 
thilde Soupert. The old Baltimore Belle and the 
Queen of the Prairies are not quite hardy north of 
Philadelphia. I am obliged to lay them down and 
carefully cover them every winter. 

Any one in the country can grow lilies very liber- 

[212] 



ten] among the flowers 



ally if they know what to do with them. The Ma- 
donna or Candidum lily, the old-fashioned Tiger, 
and the Lancifolium are most satisfactory, most 
hardy, and multiply most rapidly. The Madonna 
and the Japanese lancifolium should be grown in 
the same bed, for succession, the first beginning to 
open in early July, and the latter about the middle 
of August. No language can describe the glory of 
these lilies. They need only good garden soil, and 
there must be no manure near the roots. Much 
mischief is done by getting manure in contact with 
the bulbs. I have had nine hundred Madonna 
blooms in a single bed of a dozen feet in diameter; 
the fragrance, pure, strong, and wholesome, filled 
my garden and shrubbery. I do not know of any- 
thing more perfect than a stalk of lilies three or 
four feet tall, and crowned with five to eight blos- 
soms, each six inches across, and waving perfume 
like a censer. 

The Japan lancifoliums are glorious in all ways, 
and are so easily grown that, like the Madonna, 
you can plant them anywhere. As the bulbs mul- 
tiply rapidly, it is well to plan for them along your 
grape rows in the vineyard, setting them where the 
plow and cultivator will not reach them. Next to 

[213] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapteh 



these lilies, for general value and easy culture, are 
our native Canadense and varieties. These gen- 
erally are seen in moist meadows, but they do even 
better when transplanted into garden soil which is 
deep and friable, and still better if well mulched. 
Plant them without manure, and six to eight inches 
in depth. The lancifoliums should be set down 
about five inches, while the Madonna, which forms 
autumn leaves, should be set only two or three inches 
deep, so that the leaves will spread over as a winter 
protection. I find but one difiiculty in securing all 
these lilies by the thousand; that is, they are liable 
to start too early in the spring, and get mowed down 
by late frosts. 

You will, of course, find a good deal of interest in 
planting Auratum, and Longiflorum, which is a 
variety of Easter lily; and there are many more 
very fine sorts which you will find catalogued, but 
as a rule you will get better satisfaction with those 
I have named above. Auratum should be planted 
nine inches in depth, and Longiflorum, which is so 
noble a lily that you may well afford it patience and 
care, must be planted seven or eight inches in 
depth. 

Among perennials, after roses and lilies I place 

[ 214 ] 



TEN] AMONG THE FLOWERS 



foremost the phloxes. I do not refer to the very in- 
ferior sorts which are so common in the country, 
but to those gorgeous varieties which are being 
propagated and slowly disseminated. I have been 
able, by selection, to secure from my own seedlings 
an array that is the glory of my grounds for three 
months. Some varieties begin to open by the first 
of July; others are not expanded until late in Sep- 
tember. Obtain a few choice seeds, resolutely 
throwing away the poorer results, and you are quite 
certain of securing something that will be exceed- 
ingly valuable. Take my word for it that you will 
have a display which, for beauty and sweetness, will 
rival roses. 

If the gladiolus were perfume-giving, it would be 
the ideal flower for country cottages. By planting 
in succession, from April till June, you can have 
blossoms from July till November. It multiplies free- 
ly, and will generally prove hardy in the soil through 
winter. Some of the varieties, hybrids of ramosus, 
need never be lifted except to divide the roots. In 
fact, I am not sure but that some of the most mag- 
nificent sorts will get to be a nuisance simply from 
their persistence, hardiness, and rapid increase. 
Standing erect, the gladiolus needs only a few inches 

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of space, and for that reason can be planted in beds 
largely occupied by other plants. My choice for 
a gladiolus bed would be borders, about three feet 
wide, with evergreen backing — beds in which we 
may grow our hyacinths in early spring, and some 
of the choicest early tulips. Here the stalks can 
be tied to wires or to stakes. The array of new 
sorts is more gorgeous and bewildering every year. 
There is nothing more startling, to a person who 
has grown gladioli since the first improvements 
about 1850, than the evolution that has gone on. 
I am growing some superb strains that sweep 
through nearly the whole gamut of colors, includ- 
ing blue. You can buy the bulbs by the hundred 
from our large growers, at a very low rate, so that 
the gladiolus constitutes a particularly valuable 
flower for one who is just beginning country life. 

For autumn flowering I have great satisfaction 
in growing pansies from seed sown in boxes in 
April and transplanted to borders not too sunny. 
While the earlier pansies are liable to exhaust them- 
selves during the summer, these later productions 
give their glory in September and October. An- 
other autumn flowering plant that should be in- 
cluded in a small collection is the scarlet sage or 

[216] 



ten] among the flowers 



salvia. Set it in a cool, loose soil, and you will find 
the brilliant scarlet most comfortable as the 
weather passes away from the heat of summer. It 
is well to have a few plants standing singly and con- 
spicuous — even in your vegetable garden. I espe- 
cially admire a long border or hedge of this magnif- 
icent flower. It will succumb to a snapping frost, 
and for that reason it would be well to have a few 
plants growing in pots. Among our autumn flow- 
ering plants the cosmos is valuable and easily 
grown. I have sometimes had difficulty in getting 
it into perfect bloom before freezing weather. The 
anemones are not open to this objection, because 
they will endure a very decided freezing. Along 
the border of your autumn corner be sure to have 
a few plants of hellebore, or Christmas rose. 
This will defy the frosts of November, and will 
frequently lift its blossoms right through three 
or four inches of snow. 

Admire bulbs, bedding plants, biennials, and an- 
nuals according to taste, yet the average country 
home will rely, and ought to rely, chiefly for its 
floral display on blossoming shrubs. These we have 
not yet more than begun to develop and appreciate. 
Our woodsides, our swales, our forest openings 

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and pastures contain varieties that are seldom seen 
about our houses. Some of these are overlooked 
only because common. I have discussed them suf- 
ficiently in another chapter on lawns and shrub- 
beries, and here I refer to them only for their 
flowers and their fitness for winter foliage. The 
world holds nothing finer than those fringes along 
the forests of Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Vir- 
ginia, where the laurels and the rhododendrons in- 
terweave their arms over hundreds of acres, and 
seem to begrudge room for other shrubs equally 
glorious. Along the Susquehanna nature has 
miles of gardens finer than those of the Tuileries. 
I have looked down the mountain-sides of Penn- 
sylvania over such vast fields of flowers that I have 
felt the utter impotence of any landscape artist to 
plant a garden. You must learn to see the beauty 
of what is common. You will be especially inter- 
ested in studying the variations in every-day shrubs 
— in growth and in bloom. I have found a superb 
weeping choke cherry, and although weeping 
things are mostly morbid freaks of nature not to be 
multiplied, this is elegant both in form and fruit. 
It is constantly to be borne in mind that shrubs, 
when once planted, make comparatively little work, 

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ten] among the flowers 



which is more than we can say of our bulbs, our 
tubers, and our bedding plants. You have to keep 
out deadwood and feeble suckers, and mulch well, 
and your bushes give you sure compensation. 
Whether you grow them for flowers, or simply to 
constitute a shrubbery, remember that simplicity, 
and not formal stiffness, is your guide in trimming. 
At this point I propose to make a list of flowers, 
as I did of fruits, for the laborer's cottage, where 
the space for flowers must be unusually limited, yet 
where flowers are needed to lighten and enlighten 
life as they are nowhere else. Around your door 
and over your porch run Crimson Rambler roses, 
and with them the wild native clematis and its im- 
proved variety, paniculata. Make room for these 
roses very near the door — Hermosa, Balduin, 
Clothilde Soupert, Gen. MacArthur, Gen. Jacque- 
minot, and Meteor. They will take but little 
room and but little care. On the other side of your 
doorway a bush of old Cinnamon rose, or, better 
yet, one of the Scotch roses, will be a perennial 
delight. No one is too poor or too busy to grow 
tulips, as I have suggested, in the berry gardens. 
In this way the plainest laborer's cottage can have 
great masses of color and sweetness at no cost 

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worth the mention, and may even make the sale of 
bulbs a matter of income. Of perennials, make a 
great deal of phloxes and larkspurs. In addition 
to the old-fashioned lilacs and mock oranges, you 
can at least collect some of the native shrubs, 
which will beautify your street side and your fence 
line. Any one may glorify his cheap homestead 
with Tartarian honeysuckles, barberry bushes, and 
high-bush cranberry. These constitute a triplet of 
beauty through the larger part of the year. 

I have noticed that the poorer classes of country 
residents are fond of the dahlia. They like sym- 
metry, and the lesson is a good one to teach order 
and carefulness about the household and the lot. 
These can be grown near the kitchen door, and 
will render innocuous a place which would be other- 
wise a sink-hole for slops. If now you can go far- 
ther and spend a little time upon bedding plants, 
above all buy a dozen geraniums in the spring, 
when they can be got for a very small sum, plant 
them in almost any garden soil, and surround 
them with asters, petunias, or pansies. Instead of 
leaving your pig-pen to be a nuisance, slant up be- 
hind it a trellis for sweet peas. I am especially 
anxious that around your barn shall grow grape- 

[ 220 ] . 



TEN] AMONG THE F 1. () W E K S 



vines, in order to add largely to your profits and to 
your food; yet with these it is not impossible to 
twine, without detriment to the fruit, a good num- 
ber of climbing roses. Over stone piles let a bitter- 
sweet grow; and if you have stone fences, it will 
take very little labor to start in growth, beside them, 
Virginia creepers. In this way, by simple devices, 
the plainest homestead, where money income does 
not exceed four hundred dollars a year, may be 
glorified so as, first of all, to strike a visitor for its 
beauty. At the same time your windbreaks — 
which should never be forgotten — may be a com- 
bination of the beautiful and the useful in the way 
of crab-apple trees and mountain ash, while under 
the shelter of a Tartarian honeysuckle hedge stands 
half a dozen bee hives, which shall add a generous 
quota to your comfort and to your profit. 

A country home can rarely indulge in costly 
palms and similar decorations for the winter. It 
is not necessary, because a few fresh bouquets of 
Christmas roses, with clippings from your bar- 
berries and your evergreen mahonia and your hem- 
lock hedge will carry you well into midwinter. 
Our best preparation for the white months is to dig 
a few of our common May-flowering shrubs in 

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November, place them in a cool cellar or out-build- 
ing for a few weeks, and then, as needed, bring 
them into the house. It is not necessary that these 
shall have anything more than simple boxes to 
hold them during their residence in the kitchen or 
family room. After three or four weeks of wait- 
ing in a sunny window they will burst out into 
bloom quite as gloriously as in May when out of 
doors. The best shrubs for this forcing purpose 
are the common lilacs, some of the spireas, the 
mock oranges, the deutzias, and the Judas tree. 
The Japan Judas tree, and some other half -tender 
shrubs which will not blossom in our open grounds 
can thus be made very useful. About three weeks 
before you desire bloom, bring a plant, well-boxed 
and watered, into a warm, light room. Keep it 
well watered and occasionally turned before the 
window, and the buds will soon begin to show 
themselves. I have lilacs in midwinter that per- 
fume the whole house. The yellow-flowered ribes, 
or native currant, is specially good for our purpose, 
and is very floriferous. 

After the flowers have decayed, set the boxes back 
into the cellar, and in the spring into the ground. 
It will take a year of recuperation before they will 

[ 222 ] 



ten] among the flowers 



again be strong enough to make flower buds and 
be fit for another winter forcing. Of course we 
have to select small bushes, and this is our chief 
trouble. Lilac bushes are generally too large, or 
else mere suckers, but a row of these can be had in 
preparation along the side of your garden. It is 
not quite easy to determine flower buds from leaf 
buds on the lilac, but as a rule flower buds are 
much rounder and fuller. In addition to shrubs, 
be sure to dig one or two clumps of hemerocallis 
fulva, or yellow day-lily. This plant is peculiarly 
good for forcing. It gives a succession of richly- 
perfumed, lemon-yellow flowers during a full 
month or six weeks. I have had over eighty flow- 
ers, in succession, upon a single box. The frag- 
rance is delightful at any season, but most charm- 
ing in winter. 

I suppose you will be admirers and lovers of the 
hyacinth. I am not quite an enthusiast to agree 
with you. I very much prefer the tulip, although 
the latter does not so easily develop its beauty in 
the winter. The best possible treatment of bulbs 
for winter is to place them in pots according to their 
size, and then plunge the pots in the garden soil, an 
inch or more below the surface. Be sure to select 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



a place where water cannot settle around the pots. 
Leave them there until you find by examination 
that the roots have well filled the pots, which ought 
to occur within four to six weeks, sometimes 
sooner. If freezing weather sets in, cover with straw 
or litter, and boards over that. When you are 
ready for bloom, bring the pots into a warm room 
and water freely ; it will need another month to fully 
develop the flowers. Be regular about applying 
the water, but never allow it to remain in the sau- 
cer. It is not diflScult to produce a sickly condi- 
tion of plant roots, especially bulb roots, if they 
must remain over-saturated. 

House plants are as good as house doctors, if 
properly treated, but water-logged or half -rotten 
plants are disease-breeders, and should never be 
permitted to remain in the same room with human 
beings. The pot in which plants are grown should 
be cleaned inside and out, and should never be al- 
lowed to develop fungus growth, while the soil 
should be pure and sweet. The use of dirt taken 
from a half-fermented pile of compost is danger- 
ous. It will kill your plants, and it will certainly 
poison yourself. Many a mysterious illness comes 
from carelessness about house plants. Nothing can, 

[ 224 ] 



TEN] AMONG THE FLOWERS 



however, be more valuable, from a sanitary stand- 
point, than a few clean, healthy, and growing plants. 
They use up the carbon gases, just as outdoor 
plants do, and they give out, for our use, oxygen 
and ozone. 

Next to shrubs for winter decoration and enjoy- 
ment, I hold the most delightful house plants are 
dwarf-growing oranges, lemons, and other fruit- 
bearing plants. One of the best of these is the 
Otaheite orange, a mere bush of three feet in height, 
but constantly covered with oranges in all stages 
of growth, and with exceedingly sweet flowers. 
Unfortunately, this orange is worthless for eating. 
Still better is the American Wonder lemon, bear- 
ing a fruit four or five times the size of a common 
lemon, and of the highest quality for use. The 
flowers on this little tree, of three feet in height, are 
twice the size of orange blossoms, and exceedingly 
sweet. If confined to a single house plant, I 
believe I would select this one. The Krumquat 
orange is a beautiful small tree, of less than two 
feet in height, very compact and handsome in 
growth, bearing an edible fruit and giving us very 
sweet flowers. You can also grow the guava in 
pots, and will get from it a profusion of sweet 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



flowers, and very nice small, edible fruit. All of 
these give you not only flowers and fruit, but health- 
ful odors, and foliage which is the perfection of 
shining green. The dwarf oranges hang on two 
or three years, so that you have flowers with green 
fruit and yellow fruit at the same time. Alto- 
gether, I do not know of anything that I should 
recommend to a farmer's wife as more available 
for house plants than these tropical fruits. They 
will endure the air of almost any room, and do not 
require high temperature. 

After these, my choice among house plants just 
now turns toward fuchsias and pelargoniums. 
However, the real joy of growing plants is the 
chance of changing our tastes. "Bless the Lord," 
says Aunt Cynthia, "I ain't forgotten to change, 
and I spects to change; and when I ain't changing 
no more, I spects to be daid." With the pelargo- 
nium and fuchsia I need a pot of heliotrope, and I 
like a plenty of nasturtiums, and am then content. 
The pelargoniums, known as Lady Washingtons, 
are no longer confined to that variety, but exist in su- 
perb sorts — some of them double and others semi- 
double. They should be started from cuttings of 
ripe wood, then slowly shifted to give their first 

[ 226 ] 



TEN] AMONG THE FLOWERS 



blossoms in six or seven inch pots. In midsum- 
mer lay them flat on their sides, out of doors, under 
a tree. Let them sleep for two or three months, 
then wake them up, and shift, until they stand in 
twelve inch pots. They must stand in full sun- 
shine while growing, and must be abundantly 
watered, if you wish to see them in their glory. I 
bring them into the house in September. When 
well grown, they should stand from three to five 
feet in height, and two feet in diameter. For sev- 
eral months you will have a gorgeous show of the 
richest colors — butterfly-like. I like fuchsias be- 
cause they can be set a little farther back from the 
light, and because their blossoms are continuous 
— provided they are well supplied with water dur- 
ing growth. Another essential point is to keep the 
seed-pods picked off. It is absolutely necessary to 
bring these plants into the house in a clean condi- 
tion, free from aphis and scale. 

For vines in a window there are few things 
better than the Hoya carnosa, or wax-plant. 
This should cover a very large space, and should 
very rarely be shifted after it has reached a 
six or seven inch pot. Once in five or six 
years is quite often enough to change pot and 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



dirt. 1 have had them cover the whole ceiling 
of a small conservatory, giving two or three hun- 
dred clusters in a season. When the individual 
flowers drop, the flower stem must not be plucked; 
for out of the same stem will come the next year's 
flowers. The perfume is given out only at night, 
but then it will fill your house. It is a marvel in 
the way of rich, thick leafage and wax-like flowers. 
The morning-glories and tropseolums also are ex- 
cellent vines for temporary use. They will give 
abundance of bloom, with little care. 

A few good roses may be tried by those who have 
abundance of room and are careful to exterminate 
insects. Among the best varieties for winter bloom 
are Balduin, Golden Gate, La France, The Bride, 
Mrs. Robert Garrett, Souvenir de Wootton, Ma- 
dame Hoste, Hermosa. If you care to have your 
geraniums blossom in the winter, you must keep 
them in pots, and plunge these in the ground. Cut 
the plants back somewhat in August, and lift them 
with care, keeping them for the month of October 
in a cool room; and in winter they must have full 
sunshine. 

The best remedy that I know of for plant lice 
and most other troublesome pests, is the free use of 

[ 228 ] 



ten] among the flowers 



sulpho-tobacco soap. This is a cheap, effective, 
and harmless insecticide, and is as good on plants 
out of doors as indoors. It is a first-rate insect 
exterminator. 

Before closing this chapter, I must not overlook 
a few suggestions and general hints. Arrange your 
annuals so as to keep up a continuance of bloom 
in all parts of your garden. Just at present one of 
my arrangements is to grow my sweet williams in 
rows, and far enough apart to allow rows of asters 
between. The asters will begin to blossom after 
the sweet williams are out of bloom. I assure you 
that we have few things finer than such a bed. 
Pansies will do a lot of nice work along the borders 
of beds, and that is the place also for mignonette 
and sweet alyssum. Nasturtiums I alternate with 
hollyhocks, besides thrusting the big seeds in al- 
most anywhere that there is likely to be a lack of 
blossoms. When the hollyhocks are through blos- 
soming, cut off the stalks, or the forming of seeds 
will use up vitality and kill the plants. Soon your 
nasturtiums will spread a carpet of glorious color 
and sweetness, and hide the stumps. My chief bed 
of nasturtiums is always on a spot that is least 
manured, and naturally barren. On poor soil 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



they run to flowers, but on good soil they run to 
vines. It is a proverb with me that in spring you 
cannot get too many daffodils, and in summer and 
autumn you cannot get too many nasturtiums. I 
occasionally indulge in stocks, and wall-flowers, 
and petunias, but I am writing for those who want 
lots of flowers without having to work too hard to 
get them. Snapdragons are fine for late bloom, 
and sweet alyssum. 

Try each year one or two of the new novelties 
— and occasionally you will be glad that you did. 
You should have a dahlia craze, or canna craze, 
or a carnation fever about once in five years; 
and when you do you should do your very best 
with these noble plants. Begonias are even better 
for a cottage home. I append a list of eleven 
flowering begonias, which I conceive to be among 
the very best: Alba picta, argentea guttata, gloire 
de Lorraine, decorus, dewdrop, vernon, rubra 
Sandersonii, President Carnot, robusta, hybrida 
multiflora, Bismarck. A list of fifteen ever- 
blooming cannas may be of use to some of my 
readers. I should select as the finest that I have 
ever grown, Austria, Alsace, Alphonse Bouvier, 
Charles Henderson, Florence Vaughn, Duke of 

[ 230 ] 



ten] among the flowers 



Marlborough, Egandale, Italia, Madame Crozy, 
Maiden's Blush, President McKinley, Queen Char- 
lotte, Philadelphia, Souv. de Antoine Crozy, Tarry- 
town. For carnations, I should certainly prefer, 
for a quiet home garden, to get seed of the old- 
fashioned clove pink — which is a carnation. You 
will get from this seed a thoroughly satisfactory set 
of plants, the flowers of which give that most 
delightful spicy odor, from which comes the name 
clove. I have nothing in my garden that I prefer 
to my clove carnations. 

We have had a pleasant ramble together, and a 
chat among our flowers ; there is still time for a turn 
in the vineyard before dinner. Grapes are delicious 
after smelling the lilies and enjoying friendship. 
We have found in reality that flowers are sown 
by nature everywhere over a country place. My 
Gladys insists upon a plot for wild asters and 
golden rod. These grow by themselves in a gar- 
den corner, if let alone. As your family increases, 
your house and your home will grow. One of the 
boys or girls may take to water lilies, cypripedium, 
cardinal flowers, fringed gentian, ferns — and so 
create in some shaded nook a native wild garden. 
Here will be a cool delight in the hot days of July 

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and August, under the trees, and out of publicity 
— a place for rustic stone seats; and we hope a 
brook is within hearing. Here go, of a noonday, 
and let the ripple of the water show you how to 
take your cares for better, not worse, and how to 
keep your work going to music. 

Perhaps another one of the family will take 
to cross-breeding, and you will find his bed of 
seedling phloxes, or of seedling geraniums, or of 
seedlings something else, a marvel of creation ; and 
assuredly his groups of new shrubs will be a joy 
forever. This is the grandest power of man — to 
create new things — and it ought to be a part of 
family life everywhere in the country. 



[232] 



CHAPTER ELEVEN 
COME AND SEE MY CABBAGES 



1 HE vegetable garden is not, or it need not be, 
less beautiful than the flower garden — certainly 
not less interesting. I am sure that my rows of hy- 
brid beans, clinging to poles eight feet high, and a 
mass of silver-white pods, six to eight inches long, 
and three in circumference, have inherently the 
combined beauty of nature and art. A row of 
Savoy cabbages, with exquisitely fretted leaves and 
heads of solid lusciousness, is both picturesque 
and suggestive of winter's comfort. The old- 
fashioned vegetable garden included herbs and 
nasturtiums, and marigolds and johnny-jump-ups. 
Gradually these have gone, mostly over to the 
flower garden; and it is just as well, for there is 
poetry in potatoes, and lots of sentiment in Brussels 
sprouts and carrots. There are no sprays for your 
bouquets to surpass carrot leaves, and I do not re- 
call any pr.ettier sight than a row of blossoming 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



peas. As for corn, the world does not hold any- 
thing that is nobler in the way of foliage than the 
waving leaves and tassels of this glory of New 
World vegetation. Harriet Martineau, traveling 
through the United States in 1835, notes: "This 
day, I remember, we first tasted green corn, one of 
the most delicious of vegetables, and by some pre- 
ferred to green peas. The greatest drawback is 
the way in which it is necessary to eat it. The cob, 
eight or ten inches long, is held at both ends, and, 
having been previously sprinkled with salt, is nib- 
bled and sucked from end to end, till all the grains 
are got out. It looks awkward enough, but what is 
to be done ? Surrendering such a vegetable from 
consideration of grace is not to be thought of." 
The Egyptians associated the onion with religious 
metaphysics and the hope of immortality. 

The vegetable garden to be a delight must be 
worked with horse-power. Our fathers inherited 
the spade and the hoe, but there were no digging 
forks in those days, and the plow was made of 
wood. Because English gardens were spaded. 
New England gardens were necessarily made in the 
same way. Heredity is nowhere harder to over- 
come than in methods of land tillage. At last a 

[234] 



eleven] come and see MY CABBAGES 



fork was invented for digging, and the plow was 
made of steel — after which it occurred to the gar- 
dener that he could avoid most of his back-break- 
ing work, and get better tilth, as well as more beets 
and turnips, by using a horse. This change of 
tools threw the garden open, instead of keeping it 
surrounded with hedges, and quite changed its 
character. It is now adjacent to the corn and po- 
tato fields, instead of being an adjunct of the 
kitchen and flower garden. The horse does the 
work of ten men, and does it better. The farmer 
does not grow stoop-shouldered, and Markham's 
"Man with the Hoe" becomes a slander. 

In a small place of five or ten acres it will not pay 
you to undertake to grow all sorts of vegetables, 
unless you devote yourself to truck farming. There 
are very few gardens in New England and the Mid- 
dle States, outside of the Connecticut valley and 
similar locations, where onions can be grown as 
cheaply as they can be bought. If you are crowded 
for room, or short of help, do not even under- 
take your own cabbages, while cauliflower needs 
special care and extra good culture. I have lately 
found it cheaper to buy my celery of experts. This 
hint is quite important, for there is a knack in 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



knowing what not to grow, as well as what to grow 
— what to drop out of culture in our gardens as well 
as out of our vineyards and orchards. Egg plants 
are much relished at my table, but I have never 
succeeded in growing them without so much trou- 
ble that I prefer to buy. A few peppers I would 
have for their beauty, even if I did not desire to use 
them. I do not say to an enthusiast, who has right 
soil and enough time, Do not undertake to grow a 
row of celery or a plot of onions ; only this, Do not 
undertake it unless you have right soil and plenty 
of time. 

The three essentials of a country garden are, in 
succession, sweet corn, string beans — with shell 
beans — and green peas. This is the trinity of table 
luxury. People who live in cities rarely ever taste 
any of these in their choicest varieties and fresh 
from the field. I would go to the country to live, 
if for nothing else, to find out what corn, peas, and 
beans can be at their best. They are not only the 
three most delicious, but the three most valuable 
vegetables for food. To secure them in succession, 
plant as early as possible in April, and then plant 
successively until the middle of June. Late-planted 
peas will almost always mildew, and corn cannot 

[236] 




CORN, THIS GLOKY OF NEW WORLD VEGETATION 



ELEVEN] COME AND SEE MY CABBAGES 



come forward for table use if planted after the 
middle of June. My plan is to put in not less than 
four distinct strips of each of these three superb veg- 
etables. Among the earliest corns are Cory, Metro- 
politan, and Minnesota — all delicious, while for 
later planting there is nothing to surpass Country 
Gentleman. However, I use my own crossbreds, 
secured by hybridizing black Egyptian with several 
of the sweetest of the white sorts. 

String beans, as known in city markets, are a 
mussy affair, but in my judgment the very best of 
the varieties of our string beans constitute a vege- 
table very little, if any, behind sweet corn. Here 
also I grow only my own hybrids, of the Horticul- 
tural with the Lima. These can be had from July 
until November. Break down a few poles when 
the frost threatens, and throw over the vines straw, 
or hay, or matting. Occasionally lift this cover- 
ing to allow a touch of the sun, and in this way you 
will prolong this delicious vegetable a whole month 
or six weeks. The Lima bean is, of course, the 
king of all, yet some of the crosses are very good 
rivals, and they are earlier, as well as later. No one 
in the country should remain ignorant of the great 
improvement that has gone on with the Lima. The 

[ 237 ] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



King of the Garden is far superior to the old sort, 
having pods twice as large, containing more and 
better beans. Another magnificent sort is Ford's 
Mammoth-Podded. It is rightly named, and 
yields immense crops. There are also two or 
three very early sorts; among these Henderson's 
Improved Early Leviathan is one of the best. The 
dwarf Limas do not suit my taste, but in many 
cases they ought to be grown by preference — es- 
pecially where it is an object to avoid the labor of 
setting poles. 

For a thoroughly good list of peas, for succession, 
select for very early, Alaska, and Gradus or Pros- 
perity; for later, plant Hero or Heroine, with Im- 
proved Pride of the Market. The Improved Tele- 
phone is another excellent improvement, and in 
growth is stouter than the old Telephone. This 
list is simply given you as a good one, although you 
may make one nearly or quite as good without in- 
cluding any of these. As a rule, avoid both the 
quite dwarf and the very tall ; the first because they 
will give very few pods, without peculiarly good 
culture, and the latter because they will require 
the expense and labor of brushing. Select those 
that grow about two or two and a half feet high, 

[238] 



I 



eleven] come and see MY CABBAGES 



and so can get on without brushing, while they 
will yield abundantly. The points of a prime pea 
are sweetness, thin skin, and prolific bearing. 

Beans, peas, and corn, all alike decline to con- 
fine their service to man to their green state. Some 
of the best ears of your sweet corn should be trussed 
up for parching in winter. After parching, grind 
the kernels in a coffee mill, and eat with milk and 
sugar. It is quite equal to most of the costly 
cereals, and it is a very inexpensive food. Split 
peas should constitute a very large element in fam- 
ily diet, being wholesome and nutritious. As for 
baked beans, why speak of them to sons of New 
Englanders ? Yet I find that very few know that 
dried Lima beans are, for baking, far superior to 
the common beans. After soaking, you may easily 
rub off the skins, then boil down for soup, or bake. 
In this state they may be eaten by invalids, the 
skin of the bean alone being a hindrance to diges- 
tion. A well-ordered family should make a very 
generous use of corn meal, of boiled or baked beans, 
and of boiled or baked peas. All of them can be 
made into puddings and pies. 

If you have good, loose soil, in a limestone district, 
be sure to grow your own early potatoes, however 

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small your homestead. It is not once in five times 
that I can buy potatoes without they bring the 
flavor that comes from having been left too long in 
the sun, or the flavor of rancid soil. Potatoes even 
slightly sun-burned are bitter and poisonous. You 
will find it one of your country luxuries to be able 
to dig a pailful every morning, fresh from the soil ; 
nor will you be long in discovering that, as with 
peas and beans, so with potatoes there is a vast 
dissimilarity in the value of different varieties. You 
will soon become a vegetable connoisseur. You 
will taste and compare potatoes as you do pears 
and plums, and after that you will learn also that 
some varieties are much more digestible than others. 
From this you will learn how to cook them cor- 
rectly — always in their jackets. Potatoes, like 
apples, soon absorb bad odors, and you will learn 
that your potato cellar must be clean and sweet as 
your dining-room. There are many such things to 
be found out about a country home. I will not 
undertake a list of potatoes for you to experiment 
with, because new ones are sent out each year 
and we are liable to have at any time an im- 
provement. I confess to a liking for a strong- 
flavored potato, and I do not choose them for 

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being like flour. Yet there is so much in the 
cooking of a potato that we are liable to reject the 
best varieties for lack of what our mothers called 
"drying off" — that is, steaming after cooking. 

Some of us remember when tomatoes were 
"Love Apples," and not supposed to be eatable. 
The older sorts were, in fact, hardly fit for the 
table. The smell was very rank, and the core 
was hard, while the skin and seeds constituted 
the bulk of the fruit. But when our mothers 
made them into savory pies they stole a march 
on prejudice. "Father" said the little mother, 
"do you like the pie.?" "To be sure," said the 
father, "but what is it made of.?" "Apples, 
my dear — love apples." So we have come down 
the years, conquering and being conquered. We 
have not so many vegetable prejudices as we had 
one hundred years ago. A tomato trellis, half 
Golden Queen and half Trophy or Perfection, is a 
beautiful sight. The beauty goes hand in hand 
with comfort and pleasure when these are sliced 
with granulated sugar in Jersey cream. 

Muskmelons can be grown successfully all 
through our Northern States. There are also one 
or two varieties of watermelon that perfect as far 

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north as New Hampshire and Vermont- One of 
these goes by several different names, such as the 
ItaHan, or the Sicilian, according to the dealer's 
fancy. It is yellow-fleshed, with yellow seeds, and 
it is a long keeper. I have eaten very good ones 
on Christmas day. Cole's Early is one of the 
varieties that will mature in nearly every state. It 
is a first-class melon, with flesh of a deep red color, 
and a thin rind, very sweet in flavor and very pro- 
lific. The melons are not large, are nearly round 
in shape, and dark green, with lighter stripes. The 
muskmelon needs rich soil, and the hills should be 
slightly elevated — to prevent protracted rains rot- 
ting off the vines. Whatever you may say of Little 
Gem, Jenny Lind, and Paul Rose, bought at a 
grocery store or fruit stand, they are never so fine 
as the home-made article. A few thoroughly good 
sorts for general culture are Rocky Ford, Paul 
Rose, Columbus, Princess, Osage, and Little Gem, 
with Early Hackensack and Jenny Lind for very 
early sorts. If you wish but three sorts, take Net- 
ted Gem, Princess, and Osage. Miller's Cream is 
a cross between two of the best older sorts, and if 
it would mature a little earlier, might be taken in 
place of all the rest. The flesh is of a rich salmon 

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ELEVEN] COME AND SEE MY CABBAGES 



color, very sweet, and melting in quality, while the 
meat is so thick that there is hardly room for the 
seeds. With me it has been only moderately pro- 
ductive, and rather late. A shrewd boy taught 
me to have my melon patch in the middle of a 
corn field. Here he had the attractive fruits lying 
all over the ground and undisturbed. It is pos- 
sible that, in any other location, a moonlight 
night might note their departure. I do not quite 
understand why it has become an excusable, if 
not justifiable, act, to steal two things, melons 
and grapes. 

I have deferred noting my squashes, although I 
hold a good squash to be nearly as fine a thing as 
a melon or a dish of succotash. I brought you 
out into this garden of mine to make your mouth 
water, and I think I shall succeed in doing it. But 
before I tell you how to raise good squashes, I must 
give you the key that unlocks the whole question, 
and will keep your place increasing in fertility, 
rather than running down to barrenness. Just as 
soon as you buy your property, I want you to 
begin one or more compost piles. If it is an 
old farm, you will find no end of decaying matter 
and manure lying around here and there — old 

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sod, old barn manure, lime or plaster, old heaps 
of weeds, and old everything. If you have ten 
acres, you will select, at convenient points, at least 
three places, where you will have compost piles. 
These should take in all I have named, and all 
the wood ashes and the anthracite coal ashes you 
can get possession of, with barn manure. 

In the fall add loads of fallen leaves. Such a 
heap should be left undisturbed until late October 
or November; then comminute it thoroughly with 
a fork, and apply to the gardens just before the 
winter sets in, or in the spring, very early. A 
good gardener never uses raw or half-fermented 
manures, for the waste runs from fifty to ninety 
per cent. — in fact, manures applied in mid- 
summer, broadcast, are sometimes absolutely 
thrown away, with the exception of a very little 
humus. Compost piles, if judiciously arranged, 
need not mar the beauty and good taste of your 
property. In spring prepare around the edges beds 
for lettuce, radishes, spinach, and parsley. Then 
plant on the top, and around the sides, hills of 
squashes. You will, with a little care, secure mag- 
nificent growth. Pumpkins will do just as well, 
only they should be grown on piles separate from 

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the squashes. As soon as a joint is formed in the 
growth of the vine, cover it with dirt, so that the 
roots will be sent down into the pile. Bury again 
a little later, two, or three, or four successive joints, 
and then when the borer attacks the vine at the 
roots he can work out his own will without doing 
serious damage. In this way I secure most luxuri- 
ant vines, entirely covering the compost piles, and 
yielding a couple of barrow-loads of Hubbards and 
Faxons of delicious quality. Just before a heavy 
freeze is probable, cut squashes from the vines — 
never breaking the stems — handle them like eggs, 
and then store in a dry cellar, or, better yet, in an 
up-stairs room. Pumpkins which are stored in 
this way will be in good keeping until January, 
while the squashes can be had until March or 
April. The best varieties include the grand old 
Hubbard, the Faxon, the Essex, and a new sort 
sent out recently by J. H. Gregory Sons, of Marble- 
head, Mass., called the Delicious. This squash 
may well be described by the name. It is not 
large, but it is very solid and very sweet. 

Cucumbers need treatment quite similar to other 
vines, but grow with less care than melons. My 
own private rule is to twist the roots a little, just 

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under the soil, and so save the digestion of myself 
and family. 

Without a good asparagus bed a country home 
is hopelessly deficient. From experience I have 
come to believe that the very best sort is the Ar- 
genteuil, a French variety of extraordinary tender- 
ness and great size of stalk. I have often cut it 
eight and ten inches in length, and tender clear to 
the bottom. Yet the Palmetto and Conover's Co- 
lossal and Moore's Crossbred, and Columbian 
Mammoth White are all of exceedingly good qual- 
ity. The best method of securing good plants is to 
sow seed late in the fall, or early in the spring, in 
boxes, or in a spent hotbed, or in the open ground, 
in drills about one foot apart ; cover the seed about 
one inch, and leave the plants growing about three 
inches apart in the row; transplant when two or 
three years old. I am not certain from personal 
experience, although I strongly suspect, that we 
shall do much better with this delicious vegetable 
if we sow where the plants are to remain, thinning 
out to about one foot apart. In this case I would 
sow the seed a little deeper, and in somewhat hol- 
lowed drills. Then, as the plants grow, 1 would 
fill up the hollowed drill, and even mound slightly, 

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then fill the intermediate space with the richest 
manure. The soil for asparagus should be very 
rich and very deep, but on no account should there 
be applied any raw manure. Apply liquid manure 
frequently, and salt brine very freely, then be sure 
the ground is kept clean and friable. It is not a 
bad plan to burn over an asparagus bed, with straw 
and rubbish, late in the fall or early in the spring. 

For greens and salads we shall stand in need of 
a plenty of dandelions. But as these now grow 
alinost everywhere on our farms, and appear in 
such quantities that we can cut all we choose, and 
very early in the spring, there is no need of my say- 
ing anything about their culture. An enthusiastic 
doctor has said that, notwithstanding the number 
of dandelions in the world, considering their value 
to human health, "God never made a dandelion 
too many." Among other good greens are Swiss 
chard, spinach, early beets, and beet tops. All 
these can be had in the simplest garden. A little 
later we can utilize pigweed, milkweed, and poke 
stems, all of them excellent food. In the fall we 
should learn to utilize and appreciate purslane. 
This weed is growing in favor as a succulent and 
delicious food. Swiss chard is seldom grown, but 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

I recommend it as one of the most easily cultivated 
and most prolific of the vegetables, to be used for 
salads or greens. It lives through the winter with- 
out covering, and its stalks are very much like those 
of rhubarb or pieplant. Most country homes may 
also have endive, and where there is water or a 
brook, watercress. 

The improvement in lettuces has been remark- 
able for the last twenty-five years. The introduc- 
tion of the curled and the black-seeded Simpson 
marked a long stride ahead. Then came the Han- 
son, which is still exceedingly popular. I do not, 
however, know of a single variety that is better, for 
those who are not professional gardeners, than the 
Mignonette. It is a quick grower, generally com- 
ing up of itself the second season and forming 
little heads about as big as your fist. It is delicious 
in quality. The Denver Market, and the large 
Boston, and the White Tennis Ball, and the Grand 
Rapids, are all superb sorts. One of the best for 
forcing is the Stonehead Golden Yellow. I grow 
most of my lettuces around the compost piles, 
where the soil becomes exceedingly rich. 

Salsify, or vegetable oyster, like the onion, may 
perhaps be better bought than grown, yet I always 

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ELEVEN] COME AND SEE MY CABBAGES 



SOW a little of the Sandwich Island variety, be- 
cause it is so delicious for making soups in the win- 
ter. The roots should be cooked with a few pinches 
of codfish, and thus given very much the flavor of 
oysters. 

No one who wishes to enjoy the country should 
be without a supply of that delicious vegetable, 
the rhubarb or pieplant. The best variety is the 
Linngeus, and the largest is the Mammoth. The 
best place to grow pieplant is in a thoroughly 
worked-up soil that will catch the barn drainage; 
in fact, it is utterly useless to undertake to do any- 
thing with this deep-rooting plant unless it has 
the very richest soil. I caught my cue from a 
German who was growing it in a corner of his 
barnyard. It was fenced off from the cows, and 
what tremendous stalks and a plenty of them ! Pars- 
ley and spinach I grow by the side of my rhu- 
barb, because these also demand rich ground and 
quick growth. They are of decided importance in 
a kitchen laboratory. 

Nasturtiums constitute no mean candidate for 
the vegetable garden. The green seeds are fine for 
pickles, where these are desired. The blossoms 
glorify the borders for four months. I remember 

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that my father planted nasturtiums as borders for 
his onion bed, and he flanked his corn fields with 
hollyhocks. It was his delight to see people point 
at their crimson glory with their long driving 
whips, as they went by to market or to church. It 
was one of his poems — the poem of a beautiful 
character. 

Along one side of the vegetable garden may 
properly be placed a strip of sage, summer savory, 
mints, fennel, rosemary, etc. They all like rich 
and mellow soil. The old-fashioned herb garden, 
which constituted such a feature of our mother's 
horticulture, is no longer needed, since we buy our 
ground sage and other condiments, yet a few of 
these old-time friends will take up little room, and 
will frequently serve a good purpose. Summer 
savory is especially fine for soups, and can be 
grown in any good garden soil. 

I append a list of such seeds as you will find most 
desirable, classified according to the month for sow- 
ing. In February and March we should have a 
few cabbage, lettuce, parsley, pepper, radish, and 
tomato seeds starting in a hotbed, or in boxes. It 
is a good way to use up some of the tin cans that are 
a puzzle and a pest to get rid of. Perhaps the best 

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eleven] come and see MY CABBAGES 



method of all is to sow in cigar boxes, which can 
be placed in your kitchen windows. If you intend 
to plant cauliflower, or celery, or eggplant, these 
also must be added at this time. 

In March or April, just as soon as the ground is 
workable, sow beets, carrots, peas, early potatoes, 
spinach, radish, and early turnips. Put your peas 
in five inches deep, and see that your ground is not 
only well underdrained, but has good surface drain- 
age. When dashing showers come, they should be 
caught at once in prepared runways, and carried 
off without washing the garden soil. This is es- 
pecially necessary if you are cultivating a hillside. 
One half the compost, or fertilizer, is often carried 
away by a single dashing shower. Besides this, early 
seeds are washed out, or hopelessly buried under 
several inches of dirt. If you will grow your own 
onions, they must be sown in April. A second 
planting must come about two weeks after the first. 
A very little later I add corn and beans — that is, 
about the end of April — with the understanding 
that they may get nipped by late frosts. If they do, 
we must plarit over again ; if they don't, we gain a 
month in these delicious vegetables. 

About the middle of May we put in our second 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



planting of corn, and of beans, and our third 
planting of peas — sowing also a few more beets and 
carrots, and adding the herbs. About the 25th, or 
when warm weather has been established, we plant 
our hills of melons. Around these we set boxes, 
eighteen inches across, and four or five inches high. 
Press these carefully into the soil, so that the bugs 
cannot crawl under, and have mosquito netting 
ready to spread over before the striped beetle ap- 
pears. In June we are still planting our late peas 
and corn. 

Remember that when there has been a failure in 
growth of seed, you can fill up the vacancies at al- 
most any time with beets, turnips, and carrots, or 
you can plant potatoes as late as the last of 
June. Turnips and carrots may be sown in 
July. Young carrots are always delicious if 
cooked in Jersey cream, and they are among 
the most wholesome of our vegetables. Ruta- 
bagas must be sown as early as July. Buy your 
seeds and plants direct from growers. Most of the 
reputable seedsmen are growers of their own stock. 
Get into connection with a half dozen; study their 
catalogues, and heed carefully what they have to 
say. Avoid dealers that offer too many sorts, and 

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especially those who advertise a large number of 
wonderful novelties. 

You must determine the size of your garden plot 
by experience. Some families require twice as 
large gardens as others. My own custom is to 
scatter my vegetables largely among my small 
fruits and orchards. Vegetables should be grown, 
however, not too far from the house, and should be 
convenient to the housewife. An excellent place is, 
if possible, on a slope below your barn, where the 
drainage from the barnyard can be retained as fer- 
tilizer, and where the liquid manure may be con- 
veniently distributed. A site opening to the south- 
east is always preferable, where the plants can take 
the full strength of the sun, while the wind is cut off 
by orchard or barn or other protection. It must 
have rich soil and abundance of water, together 
with perfect drainage. The best fertilizer for most 
gardens is thoroughly rotted barnyard manure, 
after it has been composted. If stable manure is 
used directly from the yard, it should be hauled on- 
to the ground just before plowing. Limestone soil 
will generally furnish enough phosphoric acid, and 
wood ashes will furnish potash, while beans and 
peas will increase rather than decrease the nitro- 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

gen. The application of compost containing a 
good deal of coal ashes will improve the mechani- 
cal condition of the soil. 

The hotbed is a simple device which sooner or 
later you must have after making a home in the 
country. The essentials are nothing more than a 
long and rather narrow box, in which you secure 
bottom heat, and over which you place a sash of 
glass. Nowadays these are generally built directly 
upon the ground. Some of them are half in the 
ground, and half out. It is thought by the best 
horticulturists that the pit should be quite shallow, 
to prevent the heat being drawn from the manure 
into the cold earth. The heat is supplied by the 
fermentation of horse manure. This manure 
should be used when fresh, with about half the 
quantity of straw or litter. Pile it four or five feet 
high, with the top level. To hasten fermentation 
you may sprinkle it with hot water. Turn the heap 
occasionally, to secure a more uniform ferment. 
When this is secured build your bed for seed. The 
wall around this bed may be either plank or brick. 
It must be placed on a slope where the drainage will 
be perfect. Spread in the bottom a little coarse 
stuff, and upon this a couple of feet of manure. 

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ELEVEN] COME AND SEE MY CABBAGES 



Over this place a layer of leaf mold, and on top 
about five inches of the finest garden soil. The 
manure, as you place it in the pit, should be trodden 
in layers about six inches thick. A hotbed made 
with two feet of manure will soon show heat enough 
for seed. Care must be taken not to overheat — 
especially when the sun comes out suddenly. The 
starting plants must not be forced so as to draw 
them. Thoroughly sprinkle the frame at night. 
The top sash must, of course, slant so as to shed^rain, 
and it should be easily raised to furnish ventila- 
tion. Close it invariably at night, to avoid chill- 
ing the plants. The size of your hotbed you can 
learn to adjust to your growing needs. I make 
quite as much use of a cold frame, which is only a 
hotbed without bottom heat. It is useful for start- 
ing plants in the spring, and it comes very handy 
for protecting roses or other tender plants in the 
winter. 

The census tells us that there is nothing that pays 
better for the country than the vegetable garden. 
The average value of garden stuff, to the acre, in 
the United States, is about $147.00, while for wheat 
the average is only about $12.00 per acre, and the 
average for wheat, corn, oats, and hay, combined, 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



is less than $8.00 per acre. Market gardening is, 
therefore, one of the most profitable means of earn- 
ing a living from the land. However, I am writ- 
ing more specifically for those who are desirous of 
surrounding themselves with home luxuries. A 
good garden for this class is absolutely a necessity. 
It will furnish half the food used, while the orchard 
and fruit garden will go far toward furnishing the 
other half. City dwellers can hardly comprehend 
the assertion that our best country vegetables, 
fresh from the ground, constitute the most delicious 
food ever placed on the table. 

Most of the romance of old-time homes in the 
country was associated with the vegetable and herb 
garden. Lucky beans are still seen on watch 
charms, and potatoes are carried in pockets to cure 
rheumatism. They possibly do it quite as well as 
drugs in the stomach. In leap-year it is said that 
all the peas and beans grow the wrong way in the 
pod — it being women's year, and " Women do con- 
trarious." To sleep in a bean field was thought to 
induce insanity. Bean soup removed freckles. 
The Romans thought parsley good to stifle fumes 
of wine. I remember an old woman who argued 
that a beet flowering the first year from seed im- 

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eleven] come and see MY CABBAGES 



plied a death in the family, inside the year. Let- 
tuce was formerly given to hot-tempered people, to 
help them keep cool; it probably soothed their 
nerves. Saffron, being yellow in its flowers, cured 
jaundice, and cucumbers cured hydrophobia. 

Garden work is suitable for the whole family ; for 
the old folk and the women folk, as well as for the 
boys and girls. It is the natural out-of-doors family 
room. It has something to interest every one of the 
household. It is full of beauty and of sweet odors; 
for peas, beans, and even the onions have exquis- 
itely beautiful and delicate flowers. The symbol 
of the garden is the hoe — one of the tools by which 
we have climbed to higher things and to higher life. 



[257] 



CHAPTER TWELVE 
OUR RIVALS-THE INSECTS 



It will not do to get a too roseate view of country 
life as a sort of escape from worldly anxieties and 
cares. There is no such thing as successful land- 
tillage without brains. Instead of the elbowing of 
city life you will get a keen competition with insects, 
and with a low order of vegetables — both insignifi- 
cant in size, but the only real rivals that man has. 
The battle begins early in the spring, and continues 
until autumn has placed our crops in storage. Even 
after that we are not quite at rest, for all winter long 
you and I, and the birds, will be doing a good deal 
to destroy the homes of worms and insects. 

I have seen more than one man whipped by 
quack, and not a few driven off their farms by po- 
tato beetles and codlin moths. In the concrete, 
these antagonists spoil for the farmers of the United 
States $300,000,000 worth every year — that is, one- 
tenth of all our production. Most of this waste is 



OUR RIVALS — THE INSECTS 

preventable. It is not impossible, by scientific 
methods, to double the produce of our fields and 
orchards. We are just waking up to the fact that 
ten acres, brought to their best use, are as good 
as one hundred acres under ordinary tillage and 
care. The largest leakage is from the rivalry of 
creatures whose lines of bread-winning cross ours. 
Mark you, I do not call these insects our enemies; 
they have no constitutional desire to injure us, they 
are only doing just what we are trying to do, win a 
living and propagate their species — multiply and 
possess the land. If we enter the struggle with 
them it will give us healthy competition, and de- 
velop character as well as secure food. 

I shall not undertake a treatise on moths, cut- 
worms, and saw-flies, but will try to give you a help- 
ful chapter that will carry you through the ordi- 
nary fight in garden and orchard. The snow will 
not have melted in the woods before we shall find 
need for spraying pumps and poisons. A barrel 
of Bordeaux Mixture is the first necessity. Give 
your orchard, your lawn trees, and your garden — 
everything but your evergreen trees and hedges — 
a thorough application at once. The currant 
worm is a product of the saw-fly, and its first eggs 

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THE COUNTRY HOME 



[chapter 



will have been laid on the half-grown leaves before 
you will be through with the Bordeaux spraying. 
The larvae must be met at once with a thorough 
syringing of Paris green and white hellebore. If 
this be applied thoroughly it will probably prevent 
a second brood, which would naturally occur about 
June first. I have used a keg, mounted on low 
wheels, carrying a short hose, with nozzle adapted 
to cast a very fine spray. This method of working 
will necessitate two persons, but the work can be 
gone over very rapidly. Those who grow only 
a few currant bushes can spray them with an 
ordinary sprinkling pail. Be sure if you do not 
spray, and that very promptly, your currants will 
be worthless. After the leaves are devoured the 
fruit will sour on the stems, and be unfit for any 
domestic purpose. Still worse will be the effect of 
defoliation in destroying the vitality of the bushes. 
They will drag out a poor life for a few years, and 
then die altogether. 

We are not through with the saw-fl}!^ and its pro- 
geny before we must again spray our fruit trees. 
This should be done just before they blossom, and 
now with Bordeaux and arsenites. We are close 
upon the first appearance of the codlin moth. No 

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twelve] our RIVALS — the INSECTS 



danger can occur to an apple or pear from a strong 
solution, but I should prefer a much weaker solu- 
tion for the plum and cherry, and for peaches I 
should be still more cautious. For large orchards 
the simplest way is to drive a cart about, on which 
is placed a large barrel rigged with pump and hose 
and nozzle. For my own grounds, which do not 
everywhere admit a cart, I use a barrel rigged be- 
tween two wheels, and having shafts for a horse. 
Cover your horse and harness with a large sheet or 
blanket, to keep them from being stained. Spray- 
ing should not be repeated after this until the petals 
have fallen from the apple. Jfust before the apples 
turn over on their stems another spraying may be 
given, and, if the work has been well done, this is 
sufficient; even two good applications are better 
than four poor ones. Most of the spraying that is 
done by hired professionals is worthless. No good 
is accomplished unless the tree is absolutely cov- 
ered with fine spray. In all cases, after the first 
spraying, both Bordeaux and arsenites should be 
applied together. 

Meanwhile, just after the plum blossoms fall, we 
have a sharp battle with the curculio — a curious 
beetle that we have not been able to reach ade- 

[2G1] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



quately with poison. The only successful way of 
dealing with him is to spread a very large sheet un- 
der the trees, and then strike the trees with a ram- 
mer, which causes the beetles to drop on the sheet. 
They must then be quickly seized and destroyed. 
They roll up their legs and pretend to be dead, but 
begin motion again within a few seconds. The 
rammer should be a stout pole, about eight feet 
long, with the large end very thickly padded. 
Holding the smaller end, ram the tree sharply, in- 
stead of striking it. What you need is a sudden 
jar, and not a shake. Care must, of course, be 
taken not to bruise the bark of the tree. It will 
expedite matters if your sheet is tacked at the sides 
to light strips of wood, and is cut up the middle half 
way, so as to admit the tree to the center of the 
cloth. This contest must be kept up for about 
three weeks, after which the plum crop is not only 
safe from the curculio, but from nearly all other 
depredations. I have found it quite easy to save a 
large number of stung plums by going over a tree 
and snipping out with the point of a pocket-knife 
blade the crescent that contains the egg. This 
must be done before the larvae start for the center 
of the plum. Their progress after hatching is very 

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twelve] our rivals — the INSECTS 



rapid, and when the stone is touched the plum 
falls. After this the larvae very soon leave the 
plum and enter the ground. After you have 
finished your fight with the curculio, it therefore re- 
mains necessary to look out that the dropping 
plums are gathered, to prevent the larvae from 
escaping. 

The curculio not only attacks plums and cher- 
ries, but pears, quinces, and occasionally, when the 
stone fruits are scarce, it does a great deal of dam- 
age to apples. The codlin moth covers much the 
same field, omitting the plums. It damages fruit 
annually to the extent of $30,000,000. But it must 
be remembered that, if this moth did not destroy a 
portion of the stock, we should still have trouble 
from over-bearing, and from glutted markets. Our 
rivals, in other words, do a good deal of thinning, 
which could, however, be better done by ourselves, 
if we would. No one can have observed the apple 
trees during a very prolific year, without being sat- 
isfied that proper thinning will not be attended to 
by growers. 

Borers are to be fought at all seasons — especially 
in the apple and the quince and the peach trees. 
First cut around the hole smoothly with a sharp 

[ 263 ] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapteu 



knife, then with a flexible wire hunt out the larva 
and kill it; then cover the wound with wax. When 
all this is done, and you are sure that the tree is for 
the present rid of the pest, pile coal ashes around 
the trunk, leaving them mounded over the wound. 
A well-grown peach or plum tree will need half 
a bushel of ashes, while a bushel will not be too 
much for a large apple or pear tree. For quite 
young trees wrap each one with tarred paper, or 
waxed paper, six inches wide, and press it well 
down into the soil. The pear-tree borer works 
higher up, as a rule, and will be found somewhere 
about the limb joints. Bore him out with a flexible 
wire, and wax over the hole. Still another borer 
works occasionally in grape vines. Burn your 
prunings, in which the larvae invariably develop. 

Tent caterpillars and forest worms lay their eggs 
in belts, on young twigs, where they are glued 
tight and remain through the winter — to develop 
with the first warm suns of spring. These must 
be hunted out when the foliage has fallen, and all 
winter they can be sought for and destroyed. What- 
ever eggs escape your vision and hatch out worms 
will be quickly detected in the spring by the webs 
they will at once spin, and these should be burned 

[ 264 ] 



TWELVE] OUR RIVAJ,S — THE INSECTS 

as fast as they appear. Fortunately for us, the 
forest worm very soon finds its parasitic enemies, 
or it would absolutely overwhelm us with its multi- 
tude. The tent caterpillar also has its insect ene- 
mies, so that it is very migratory in its appearance. 
Neither of these pests are generally found more 
than two years in succession in the same locality, 
at least in force. There must be no dallying with 
them, however, for if allowed to get well in- 
trenched they will devour our orchards and 
even our lawn trees inside of two weeks. Not 
only is our fruit crop destroyed, but the trees are 
so devitalized by two years of feeding that 
many of them will die outright. I have seen 
large belts of forest trees killed by forest worms 
as if by fire. 

Canker worms, or, as they are generally called, 
"measuring worms," are of two kinds, the spring- 
feeders and the autumn-feeders. The early sort 
must be shaken from the trees, and bands of tarred 
cotton put about the trunks to prevent their climb- 
ing up again. As a rule, our winter birds will take 
care of the late brood, if they are encouraged. Cut 
worms are not often on hand in serious numbers, 
but when they are wind your trees with cotton bat- 

[265] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [cH.\PTEit 



ting, after ridding them of the worms. It is also 
advisable for both canker worms and cut worms 
that we spray them with Paris green. This work 
must be done very promptly and very thoroughly; 
throwing a scattered spray that reaches half of 
the tree does little good. 

This paragraph must deal with a trouble which 
I confess is most diflBcult to manage ; I refer to the 
different varieties of aphides or lice that infest our 
fruit trees, and sometimes our lawn trees. No one 
has yet devised any method whereby we can com- 
pletely master these insignificant creatures. The 
hop louse appears first on plum trees and on buck- 
thorn hedges, early in the spring. After breeding 
several generations, to the great annoyance of tree 
growers, it turns a generation loose into the hop 
yards. The destruction wrought is often so great 
as to make picking hops not worth the while. Our 
remedy, so far as we have any remedy, is spraying 
with kerosene emulsion, or with whale oil soap, or 
both combined. As the leaves curl up very quickly 
under the influence of these parasites, it is very 
diflBcult to hit them all with spray. You must go 
over and over again, day after day, until you find 
that you are making some impression. Take a 

[266] 



TWELVE] OUR RIVALS — THE INSECTS 



turn with Paris green, and apply in the same way. 
When my buckthorn hedges are infested, I take the 
shears and cut off the young shoots and burn them 
up. The damage is worst of all on sweet cherries. 
Here it is sometimes so great that I go over young 
trees and pick off infested leaves and burn them, 
trusting nature to slowly overcome the damage 
done by the removal of the foliage. It frequently 
happens that new growth will soon take place, and 
that will not be infected. It needs a whole volume 
to discuss these little, but most destructive, crea- 
tures. The woolly aphis is a curious insect, and is 
often mistaken for a bit of cotton or vegetable floss 
floating in the air. It is a blistering pest when it 
makes its home on the bark of a tree, while another 
sort that works underground is one of the worst 
enemies of our berries, and still another of our 
grapes. The variety that works on raspberry roots 
creates galls, which soon destroy the vitality of the 
cane. Our only remedy is to dig up the plants and 
burn them. 

There is one compensation which comes from 
some of the aphidse; they deposit a honey dew, 
from which our bees make a large amount of 
honey. Nor is this honey an inferior product. 

[267] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chaftek 



While the bees are at work collecting this deposit, 
you will find the white-faced hornet all over the in- 
fested trees, killing and eating the lice. Do not de- 
stroy one of their paper nests, because you have not 
a better friend in the insect kingdom. The lady- 
beetles, or, as the children call them, carriage bugs, 
are also of immense importance as aphis killers. 
The chief trouble in combating lice is the immense 
rapidity with which they multiply. Prof. Forbes 
estimates that a single mother can produce, in a 
season, nine and a half quadrillions of young. 

I have sometimes thought that lice on house 
plants do not generally do more harm than good. 
Among these indoor plants they eat up and clear 
out of the way a lot of wretched, diseased, poison- 
breeding pests. 

There are many sorts of scale bugs that infest 
our orchards and gardens. They are all exceed- 
ingly destructive, if allowed to have their way. 
Young trees when infested should be thoroughly 
swabbed with kerosene emulsion and whale oil 
soap. The remedy must be applied several times 
before the scales will be entirely eradicated. All 
other varieties are comparatively harmless beside 
the San Jose scale. This variety came from China 

[ 268 ] 



twelve] our rivals — the INSECTS 

into California, where it wrought astonishing 
havoc. The young crawl for a while, and then 
settle down in vast numbers, sucking the life out of 
a tree. An orchard will be destroyed in a single 
season, and the most beautiful neighborhood will 
in a short time become a desert. It breeds on such 
trees as walnuts and willows, and on your berry 
plants, your lilacs, and most other shrubs, as well 
as on all fruit trees. All scales poison the wood, 
as well as suck the sap, which to some degree is 
true also of aphides. Besides the remedies named, 
we must bear in mind that a healthy tree is very 
much less likely to be assailed than a sickly tree, 
therefore keep up steady growth. 

Besides these almost domesticated enemies of 
our peace, each year is pretty sure to develop some 
special insect or worm, like the pear psylla, which 
gave us so much trouble in 1903. Forest worms 
are found to come in periods of about thirty years. 
Different sorts of borers move across the country, 
sometimes westward and sometimes eastward. 
The remedies which I have named are, as a rule, 
what we need for these special visitors, only attack 
them promptly before they get good lodgment. 
Prof. Roberts, of Cornell University, says the worm 

[269] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



which is really at the root of our fruit industry and 
spoiling our country homes has not been poisoned, 
and cannot be punched out of existence. We have 
not even discussed him and found out where he 
hibernates; neither do we know his life history. 
"We could send scores of specimens from any 
county to the experiment stations to illustrate their 
blighting effects. All others combined cannot be- 
gin to do the damage that is done by ignorance. 
The untaught engineer lands his passenger in the 
morgue, but the ignorant farmer lands himself in 
the tenement-house or the poor-house. Ignorance 
is the worst worm that breeds in the country." 

In the flower garden we have pests enough to vex 
the patience of any lover of the beautiful, yet they 
are mostly managed with patience and petroleum. 
Kerosene emulsion must be always on hand for the 
grower of roses. The white fly and the slug, 
which are sure to appear in May and early June, 
should be promptly met by a thorough sprinkling of 
weak emulsion and hellebore. If the first applica- 
tion proves to be too weak, try it a little stronger, 
but go very slow or you will blister the foliage. I 
am happy to say that I have no personal experi- 
ence with the rose chaffer or beetle on my roses. 

[270] 



twelve] our rivals — the INSECTS 

When they do develop they come with such rapidity 
and in such hordes that it is very difficult to con- 
trol them. Poison will partly do the work, but 
hand picking must follow. Catbirds, wrens, wood- 
peckers, bluebirds, brown thrashers, and other 
birds will destroy a large percentage, and the toad 
helps us emphatically. Prof. Hodge, of Clark 
University, recommends planting spireas around 
our rose gardens, because the beetles will gather in 
this bush and can be collected readily. There are 
many other insects that attack our flowers, and 
sometimes they will create havoc. As a rule, they 
can be kept in control by the remedies I have 
named. 

I append a list of formulae for the most important 
fungicides and insecticides. 

Bordeaux Mixture. 

Copper Sulphate 6 lbs. 

Quick or Stone Lime 4 lbs. 

Water 45-50 gals. 

Dissolve the copper sulphate in an earthen or 
wooden vessel with three gallons of hot water, or 
put in a coarse sack and suspend in a barrel partly 
full of water; when dissolved, slack the lime in a 

[271] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

separate vessel, dilute to ten or fifteen gallons, and 
add to the copper solution in the barrel ; then fill up 
with water to make the 45-50 gallons. Stir fre- 
quently. For spraying peaches use two pounds of 
the copper sulphate, and add an excess of lime. 
After mixing the lime and copper sulphate the 
mixture must be used at once, but if you wish to be 
always prepared keep the solutions separate until 
about to use them. 

Paris Green Mixture. 

Paris Green 1 lb. 

Quicklime 2 to 3 lbs. 

Water 150-300 gals. 

Lime must be added to a Paris green mixture, to 
avoid burning the foliage. Remember always to 
weaken the mixture when applying to peaches and 
plums. A common method is to apply Paris green 
with the Bordeaux. By doing this the Paris green 
will lose its caustic properties, but will be equally 
valuable as an insecticide. 

Arsenate of Lime. 
This insecticide is growing in favor, and is quite 
as efiicient as Paris green, while it costs only one- 

[ 272 ] 



twelve] our rivals — the INSECTS 

half as much. It will not burn the tenderest foli- 
age when made according to the following prescrip- 
tion. Boil together for fifteen minutes 

Water 2 gals. 

Sal Soda 8 lbs. 

White Arsenic 2 lbs. 

When the arsenic is entirely dissolved the mixture 
is ready for use. Place one pint, together with two 
pounds of slaked lime, in a barrel of water. The 
value is equal to one-quarter of a pound of Paris 
green, and costs much less. 

White hellebore and pyrethrum are generally ap- 
plied in water, one ounce to three gallons of water, 
or they are used dry, mixed with one-fourth part of 
flour, to make them adhere. These poisons are 
used chiefly on ripening fruit, such as currants, be- 
cause they lose their poisonous properties very soon 
after being exposed to the air. 

Kerosene emulsion should always be kept on 
hand. It may be made by dissolving one-half 
pound hard soap in one gallon of boiling water; 
add two gallons of kerosene, and churn the mixture 
with a pump until it is so thoroughly mixed as to 
constitute a soap — that is, for about five or ten min- 

[ :C>73 ] 



> 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

utes. This emulsion is valuable at all seasons; in 
winter for scale insects, in summer for plant lice, 
thrips, etc. For use, dilute according to what you 
intend to spray. Two or three tablespoonfuls in 
a pail of water will be quite strong enough for a 
first application on roses, but a dilution four times 
this size will be none too strong when you intend 
to swab your scale-infested trees. 

In all cases be sure to begin your work as 
soon as your enemy does, instead of waiting until 
the mischief is half done and your enemy well 
intrenched. 

In spite of all preventives the San Jose scale has 
invaded nearly all the states of the Union. It will 
be advisable, therefore, to give you a formula for 
contending with this formidable pest. At present 
we have no better method of treatment than that 
which is called the lime, sulphur and soda mixture. 
While different strengths of this formula have been 
used, the following seems to be most satisfactory: 

Sulphur 17 lbs. 

Caustic Soda 3 lbs. 

Lime 33 lbs. 

Water One barrel 

[274] 



twelve] our rivals — the INSECTS 



This mixture does not need boiling. The Hme 
and soda cause it to come to great heat — if the 
chemicals are pure and in good condition. The 
application is as simple as that of other formulae, 
but care must be exercised because of its caustic 
nature. It is always preferable with such mixtures 
to repeat applications rather than make them too 
intense at first. 

The following calendar will be found useful in 
every department of your country home-making : 

Apple. — For fungus, apply Bordeaux when the 
buds are swelling, again just after the buds open, 
and a third time after the blossoms have fallen. 
Repeat later, if you have time, and consider the 
work is needed. For canker worm, spray with ar- 
senites as soon as the worm shows itself, and again 
after ten days. For codlin moth, use arsenites, 
with Bordeaux Mixture, after the first application 
of Bordeaux. 

Currant.^Vse Bordeaux when the leaf is about 
half grown. Use arsenites or kerosene emulsion 
with hellebore as soon as the worms begin their 
work; repeat every two or three days, until they are 
out of sight. If a second brood occurs later, use 
hellebore and no Paris green. 

[275] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chaptek 



Grape. — Treat with iron sulphate before the 
buds start in the spring. Use Bordeaux to prevent 
black rot just before blooming; repeat just after 
the fruit is set, and again a few weeks later. For 
beetles and bugs apply Paris green as soon as they 
appear. 

Pear. — Treat as you do the apple. For blight 
cut off the limbs some inches below the affected 
part, and burn. For psylla and slug apply kero- 
sene emulsion, quite strong, and repeatedly, or 
whale-oil soap, one pound to ten gallons of water. 
If the scab appears on the pear or apple apply Bor- 
deaux repeatedly. 

Plum. — Use Bordeaux before the buds open, and 
again after the fruit is set, repeating occasionally. 
If leaf blight occurs, Bordeaux again. Cut away 
black knot, and apply Bordeaux. 

Cherry. — Cut away black knot and burn it. 
Apply arsenites for slugs, and treat aphis with hel- 
lebore; try also kerosene emulsion. Repeat the ap- 
plication every ten days, or oftener. 

Potato. — For blight use Bordeaux when the 
vines are six inches high ; repeat every two or three 
weeks. To prevent potato scab do not plant any 
scabby seed, and soak uncut seed potatoes one hour 

[ 276 ] 



twelve] our rivals — the INSECTS 



and a half in a solution of corrosive sublimate — one 
ounce to eight gallons of water. For potato beetle 
apply arsenites as soon as the beetles or the slugs 
appear. Bordeaux and arsenites can be applied 
together. 

In the Berry Garden. — Spray everything with 
Bordeaux very early in the season; repeat once or 
twice through the early part of the season. For 
orange rust dig up and burn the plants. For root 
gall dig up and burn. 

Beans.— As soon as the first leaves expand 
apply Bordeaux to prevent the development of 
rust ; repeat after blossoming, and afterward at in- 
tervals. 

Remember that Bordeaux is your remedy against 
all forms of mildew, rust, and blight. It can be 
used quite freely in your vegetable garden as well 
as in your fruit garden. 

House Plants. — For insects on house plants I 
have suggested a spray of suds from sulpho-tobacco 
soap. Tobacco water is also useful, made by boil- 
ing tobacco stems and straining the liquid. Add 
water to make two gallons of liquid for every pound 
of stems used. The mixture will be made more 

[277] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



efficient by stirring in one pound of whale-oil soap 
to every fifty gallons. 

These formulae will be very helpful, and abso- 
lutely essential to beginners, but there will be, I 
assure you, room enough for the application of in- 
dividual judgment and experimentation. Every 
orchard offers conditions that modify treatment ; so 
does each year — 1902 held through the whole 
summer an excess of moisture, and, as a result, 
lime was absorbed by the atmosphere, and the or- 
dinary mixtures for spraying that are generally 
safe burned the trees. Immense damage was done 
throughout the whole apple belt, but especially in 
New York State. Under similar conditions more 
lime must be added to your formulae. It has been 
found by our best horticulturists that not one of the 
remedies or preventives suggested will work with 
precisely the same results in all orchards. The age 
and the vigor of trees must be considered. In a 
young orchard scales and aphidse have so much 
nourishment that not one young one fails to thrive. 
In this case spraying will have to be repeated more 
frequently than in an old orchard, where a large 
proportion of the insects fail at birth. 

[ 278 ] 



TWELVE] OUR RIVALS — THE INSECTS 



I have not given space to a discussion of the oil 
remedy, because there is so much danger of serious 
damage being done by amateur workmen. If, 
however, you care to experiment with crude petro- 
leum to destroy scale insects or aphides, I advise you 
not to use a stronger than twenty-five per cent, mix- 
ture. In peach orchards I should use it with still 
greater caution. Pure crude petroleum was for a 
while recommended to be used in very fine spray, 
but a vast amount of damage was done. 

I shall not pass away from this discussion of in- 
secticides, involving a free use of arsenical mixtures, 
without warning you that these poisons cannot 
be used without more or less danger. Some of 
us cannot handle or come in contact at all with 
these spraying materials without serious injury. 
A great deal too much arsenic is used in potato 
fields, and elsewhere. The storing of it is often 
very careless. Arsenic, even when used in the 
form of spray, and blown about by the wind, is not 
inhaled by the lungs will impunity. I give you, 
therefore, a word of sharp caution in the handling 
of this poison and its application. 

A large number of insects are very migratory in 
their habits. They are always coming and they 

[279] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



are always going. The May beetle comes in large 
numbers only once in three years. His approach 
is heralded by the very large increase of moles that 
feed on the larvae. Those that emerge feed, for a 
few days, on our trees that are late in leafing 
out — such as the butternut and the scarlet oak 
and the ash. It is nearly impossible to success- 
fully contend with this rapid feeder. 

Since the discovery that mosquitoes carry some 
of the most dangerous bacteria, and are the medium 
whereby many destructive fevers are spread, it 
becomes essential to enter seriously into a cam- 
paign against this insect. The most available ma- 
terial for combating the mosquito is crude or re- 
fined petroleum, sprayed over those pools and pud- 
dles where mosquitoes breed. This should cover 
those road pools and marshy spots which lie at quite 
a distance from our houses. The application must 
be made suflSciently often to make sure that we have 
destroyed the larvse in the water. Be sure that 
your cesspools are treated, and if you are careless 
enough to have slop holes near your kitchen door 
let them be thoroughly disinfected. In this way 
malaria can be absolutely abolished from a neigh- 
borhood, while .we shall go very far to prevent 

[280] 



twelve] our rivals — the INSECTS 



typhoid fever. The fly nuisance can be greatly re- 
duced by spraying barn walls and even house walls. 
The house fly is the more common agent in spread- 
ing typhoid fever. It breeds in manure piles, and 
these should be disinfected, if allowed to remain at 
all about the house or the barn. 

Science is placing our relation to the pests of life 
in a new light. It seems now to be certain that 
we shall be able to master all those ills which we 
used to class under the head of Providences. It 
becomes a social and moral duty to do our full 
share in suppressing the foes of health. Any ani- 
mal that breeds disease, or carries it, fails to have 
any claim on our good will. Science has no nobler 
end than this practical one of destroying the sources 
of contagion and infection. A country home that, 
by defective sewerage, or by slop holes, or by 
sloughs, or puddles of standing water, affords 
breeding places for social plagues, is a nuisance. 
We can, with so little difficulty, prevent the mos- 
quito from propagating on our property, that if we 
do not we justly deserve the punishment that na- 
ture metes out, in the way of fevers and linger- 
ing misery. Fill up your mud holes, clean out your 
stagnant pools, drain your swampy acres, empty 

[281] 



THE COUNTRY HOME 



out your old cistern water, and freely spray every- 
thing with kerosene until it is uninhabitable by 
insects. Cooperative destruction of dangerous pests 
will be our final resort. In Denmark a National 
Commission stands in charge of such work. Be- 
sides the use of a national appropriation, the larger 
cities also raise subscriptions to aid the work. The 
destruction of mosquitoes must become, in this way, 
a neighborhood and a national affair. 



[282] 



CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
SECURING OUR ALLIES 



I\ OTHiNG is more certain than that man could not 
exist in the country alone; perhaps he can in the 
city. We began our civilization by securing the 
aid of the camel, the ox, the reindeer, and the dog; 
and by and by the horse became our noblest ser- 
vant and companion. Our food, our safety, our 
poetry, are largely dependent on association with 
these humble friends. Only a degenerate supposes 
that he can live with his gun, in defiance of all other 
creatures. Earlier races were ready to recognize 
their dependence upon animal friends. The Aino, 
who represents the age of the cave-dweller, apolo- 
gizes to a dead bear that he has killed — "only 
from necessity, and not from love of killing." " Oh, 
bear ! forgive me ! and believe me not to be a man of 
evil mind! I send you ahead to spirit hunting 
ground ! I pray you to be my friend there, as you 
have been here!" This touch of sympathy with 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



animal life is a saving charm of barbarism. Every 
race has manifested affection for something, horses, 
or dogs, or, it may be, domesticated birds. Our 
complex civilization is possible only as we appre- 
hend the unity of all life and the interdependence 
of all living things. 

Animal sympathy not only ministers to our suc- 
cessful management of a country home, but to the 
management of ourselves. It broadens our work 
to a larger number of individualities. Man with 
his gun and a brute-force soul creates only discord ; 
and woman, wearing the wings of her allies, com- 
pels the birds to hide in the woods. With such 
people the cow will grow shy, and the horse will de- 
generate into an unwilling slave. On the other 
hand, what can be more wonderful than a country 
folkhold where the horse draws the load of him 
who feeds him ; where the cow gives milk and adds 
to his bank account ; where the dog guards his prop- 
erty and the birds devour his enemies. 

The interdependence in country life was not or- 
iginated by man, although he has readjusted the re- 
lations of creatures in every direction. When a 
hawk has harried a robin's nest, I have seen birds 
of half a dozen species join to chase the marauder 

[ 284 ] 



thirteen] securing OUR ALLIES 



through the skies. It is not uncommon to find 
strong friendships growing up among our domestic 
animals. A Morgan mare in my stables became so 
deeply interested in a Leicester sheep that she 
would share her hay and provender with evident 
pleasure. Billy would jump into an adjacent man- 
ger, and with common sense take no more than his 
half. Each one would pull a mouthful from the 
hay, and then draw back to give the other a chance. 
It is altogether misleading to talk of the struggle for 
existence as a principle covering all that is going 
on throughout animate nature. The spirit of mu- 
tual aid is quite as general as the struggle for 
existence. 

Our highest moral life is reached in that altruism 
which makes our responsibility broad enough to 
secure the happiness of inferior animals. This 
duty widens into religion, when we recognize the 
fact that we are children of God only as we are 
divinely good and cooperators with the Creator. 
This cooperation gets to be a very important part 
of human evolution. We have to learn, above all, 
to distinguish those creatures that can be made 
compeers, assistants, or collateral workers. The 
whole of human history contains no fact more re- 

[ 285 ] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



markable than the domestication of animals — ani- 
mals plucked out of wildness, and in most cases 
ferocity, and made members of our households. 

The collie dog is perhaps the nearest to a reason- 
ing being that we have developed, yet he comes 
directly from the wolf. My collie talks to me, and, 
while it is not English, it is a cosmopolitan speech 
that embraces the better part of English. She 
knows my needs, comprehends the boundaries of 
my property, can distinguish our animals from 
others, and is possessed of a sense of responsibility 
for their welfare. More than this, she comprehends 
many things that I do not. At seven o'clock ex- 
actly, without waiting for the clock to strike the 
hour, she starts to see if our workmen are all on 
time. If all is right she wags her tail, and turns 
away to other dog-duties. Her observing facul- 
ties have reached the highest development, appar- 
ently under Pestalozzian influence somewhere. She 
observes not only with the nicest accuracy, but she 
draws conclusions with a certainty that is human, 
or more than human. She has brought along the 
sharp-witted outlook of her wolf progenitors, but 
education has biased all this into lines of protective 
good-will. It is a case of conversion from malevo- 

[ 286 ] 



THIRTEEN] SECURING OUR ALLIES 



lence — giving the collie a conscience and a dog 
religion. With her quick, discerning wit, she is 
also absolutely fearless — when right. Unless 
beaten into cowardice, a collie will never hesitate 
to defend home and friends, or whatever is placed 
in her charge. The last thing at night is to make 
sure that Lilah is indoors, where, with full range of 
the house, she constitutes the best possible burglar- 
alarm and defense. Every motion of the beautiful 
creature is a word. Those who claim to own ani- 
mals should at least understand animal speech, 
most of which is not yet differentiated from the tail 
to the tongue. 

In Brussels the dog does a very large part of 
manual labor, together with the women. A recent 
writer says: "We saw a young girl of eighteen har- 
nessed to a cart between two great dogs. They all 
seemed happy, and the woman was apparently a 
free agent, for when together they had pulled the 
cart into a favorable position, she got out of the 
harness, bade the dogs lie down, and began to cry 
her vegetables. We also saw men harnessed to 
carts with dogs, but there were more women. 
We saw dogs harnessed between shafts like horses, 
others in traces underneath the carts, and others 

[287] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



tandem. They pulled great loads, and I did not 
see a single balky dog; in fact, they evidently en- 
joyed their work as much as those who pulled and 
worked with them. One big dog barked all the 
time, and beat the ground with his paw while he 
was being loaded, so anxious was he to be off. 
These dogs are probably far happier than the use- 
less or the pampered dogs of our own country." 

You say, "But we are going into the country, as 
much as anything else, so that we can keep our own 
cow. I long once more to taste real milk, and to 
have all the golden cream that we can have — free 
of cost — placed on the table." To be sure; and 
if you really knew what passes for milk in the city, 
after it has become charged with bacteria, you 
would never know how to get on without your own 
cow. Yet, after all, the possession of a cow does not 
imply, for a certainty, that you will know what to 
do with such a creature. Returning to country 
life, I found that I must either get a new sort of 
man to do my milking, or must do the milking my- 
self — and I accepted the latter alternative. Why 
not milk your own cow ? Why not spend half an 
hour in the morning in the stables, to see that ev- 
erything is cleanly and that justice rules. In Hol- 

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land and in England, where the women care for 
the kine, very little is known of the monstrous filth 
that constitutes the stable and the barnyard of 
many American cows. In Michigan I came upon 
Quaker homesteads where the law of love governed 
the barn as well as the house. The cows appre- 
hended this, and showed their appreciation. The 
milk that reached the pantry from such a barnyard 
was untainted. It is no disgrace for a woman to 
milk and care for a cow, or to harness, drive, or ride 
a horse. A Yankee thoroughbred race will some 
day be developed in our country that can do all this, 
and will have very little capacity for that frivolous 
education which passes for *' accomplishments." 

The best breed of cow you will have to deter- 
mine for yourself. For a good-sized family, in need 
of a large amount of milk, the Holstein is unsur- 
passed. If you are a retired couple, out of whose 
nest the birds have flown, a creamy Jersey will de- 
light you. In my judgment there is no cow that 
combines so many good qualities as the Ayrshire, 
but I have never been able to find an Ayrshire that 
was not frisky and generally mischievous. From 
Scotch ancestry, they have inherited the capacity to 
climb steep places, and I have seen them walking 

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up-stairs into a haymow. They are, however, so 
intelligent that if you have about them just the 
right sort of human friends, you will convince them 
that common sense and common honesty are good 
policy. The last Ayrshire that I owned enjoyed 
nothing so well as to scrape a whole row of hens off 
the roost with her horns, and then whirl around to 
me with, "Say, wasn't that well done.?" It is a 
breed that can almost talk, and, for that matter, 
laugh. But, whatever the breed, I wish for a cow 
that I can sit down on when she is quietly chewing 
her cud in the yard ; can pat and play with — a 
cow that is appreciative and responsive to kind- 
ness. 

As for a horse, it is part of a well-organized 
family, even yet — in spite of the trolley, the bi- 
cycle, and the automobile. There is in most 
human beings a natural horse sympathy that I 
cannot quite account for. The cow is despised 
as a "board-faced animal," while the horse is 
reckoned upon as the very model of animal allies. 
Part of this sentiment is to be accounted for on the 
basis of our own approach toward horse sentiment, 
rather than an education of the horse to human sen- 
timent. But if you find it possible to be the owner 

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of a Morgan mare, it will excuse you for going at 
least half the way in friendship. My Morgan was 
so near human that she saved for me life and limb 
more than once. Going up a very steep hill in the 
country, the shaft broke off sharp, and the buggy, 
containing myself, my wife, and babe, would have 
been easily precipitated into a gulch thirty feet be- 
low. But my noble horse immediately braced her- 
self, turning her head about full of interrogation, 
and held everything with the intelligence of a hu- 
man being. Indeed, no person could have more 
fully cooperated in getting that broken buggy to 
the top of the hill, where we could temporarily re- 
pair it. On another occasion, while driving in a 
crowded city street, the whiffletree broke loose. In- 
stead of running or kicking, my inarticulate friend 
instantly stopped and exercised her reason in as- 
sisting me to prevent serious damage. However, 
most of you will not be able to own a Morgan. You 
will have to get along with a plain, everyday sort of 
horse. But mark you, to a certainty, every time 
kindness will pay. Talk with your horse as if she 
understood, and she will understand. Talk with 
all your animals, and you will be astounded to find 
how very much better you will be able to cobper- 

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ate than when you swear, scream, kick, and act 
generally like a fool. 

A rural free delivery carrier, while making his 
rounds, got stuck in a huge drift. Alighting from 
his carriage to examine the situation, his horse gave 
a great leap, broke the harness, and dashed into the 
open road. He soon disappeared, leaving the car- 
rier and the broken vehicle. Taking his mail bag 
on his shoulder, the carrier started to find the next 
house. He had gone but a little way, when he saw 
his horse coming back again, with two men. He 
had dashed up to their door, calling loudly, and 
then started back up the road. He did this until 
they would follow, and then he led them to the 
drift where the carrier was floundering and ex- 
hausted. Treat a horse as human, always and 
everywhere, and you will be surprised to find how 
fully he will enter into intelligent partnership. 
Bishop Whipple tells us that he was obliged, during 
his Sioux Mission, to make a drive of thirty miles 
with the mercury thirty-six below zero, and in the 
teeth of a severe storm. He found the trail com- 
pletely obliterated, while a blizzard raged through 
a starless night. He finally curled himself under 
the buffalo robes, leaving all to his horses. One of 

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these, a cousin of the celebrated Patchin, suddenly 
stopped. The Bishop jumped from the sleigh and 
could distinguish a short strip of Indian trail. 
Bashaw followed it, and when his mate was in- 
clined to turn out, he put his teeth into his neck and 
forced him to obey. "When at last we reached 
the Agency," says the Bishop, "Bashaw turned his 
great eyes upon me, and said with a whinny as 
plainly as with words, we are all right now, master. 
He was my friend and companion for over fifty 
thousand miles, always full of spirit, and gentle as 
a girl. He saved my life many times when lost on 
the prairies. In summer's heat and winter's storm 
he was always patient, hopeful, cheerful, and loved 
by every one that knew him." 

I can hardly refuse myself the pleasure of copi- 
ous illustrations of the capacity of an honorably 
treated horse to cooperate in many of the occupa- 
tions and purposes of a country home. I have 
known of more than one horse allowed to go on 
errands which involved rational understanding. 
One, a devotedly trusty animal, took its master's 
children two miles to a school-house each morning, 
and then returned to his home without accident or 
loss of time. Being harnessed again at night, he 

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started alone for the children, and brought his 
charges safely home. 

But say what we may of high-bred dogs and 
horses, of Jersey and Ayrshire cows, incontrovert- 
ibly most important to our prosperity are the birds. 
I cannot understand why country folk are so gener- 
ally dull on this subject. In a general way they do 
like birds, and for some unexplainable reason they 
especially like the robin, but they know very little 
of the work of the various families, and the nature 
of the various birds that inhabit, with them, their 
homesteads, and they appreciate very imperfectly 
their service. We could afford to pay the birds 
high toll for their music alone, but such music is of 
a scale far too refined for the boor. Nor can such 
a man see that the helpers, who make the world 
habitable for us, must have compensative protec- 
tion and food. The first duty of one who goes 
countryward for a home is to form an alliance with 
just as many tribes of useful birds as possible. You 
will not be able to understand them until you have 
made a careful study of the laws which govern their 
communities and their individual lives. They 
come back to us in the spring in great flocks, and 
from one town center they divide into groups or 

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THIRTEEN] SECURING OUR ALLIES 



tribes, and then into families. These families then 
resort to the same places where their lives were 
spent during previous years — unless there is a 
general agreement that there is good reason for a 
change. Most of these birds are very methodical, 
both in coming and going. Swifts get to Central 
New York on or about the 24th of April; catbirds 
about the fifth of May. Their times for departure 
are just as accurate, showing that their social life, 
in tribes and peoples, is as cooperative as with us. 
With their arrival in the spring begin work and 
music, love and family cooperation. Bird home 
life is a model life. If you have obligations, re- 
sponsibilities, duties, especially of a home sort, do 
not worry, but sing. And what a tremendous 
amount of work these birds of ours accomplish 
during their three or four months' stay with us ! The 
rearing of a bird family requires incessant labor 
and incessant watchfulness. 

A recent writer says, "We are learning that suc- 
cess in horticulture and agriculture depends on a 
good understanding of the birds." The robin, 
the catbird, the song sparrow, the grosbeaks, and 
most of the thrushes destroy vast quantities of in- 
sects, while the goldfinches and other seed-eaters 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chaptek 



are of great use in destroying the seeds of noxious 
weeds, and the swift and the nighthawks sweep the 
air of insect pests. Bird culture should mean a 
systematic effort to encourage the approach of wild 
birds, and the domestication of all useful birds — 
involving the supply of shelter and abundance of 
food. This, after all, is not so difficult a matter. 
They take our berries and cherries because they 
have nothing else to eat. When we have learned 
to count them into our families, and to provide for 
their sustenance, as we do for our cows and hens, 
we shall find that the birds do little harm to our 
gardens. 

I treasure the memory of a father who used to 
graft choice cherries into the wild choke cherries, 
*'to give the birds better food, and what they 
like." I have a Tartarian honeysuckle hedge, 
and just as my raspberries ripen this hedge is cov- 
ered with bushels of berries that the birds pro- 
nounce very fine. They prefer these to the rasp- 
berries that perch among the thorns. So I find 
that I am cultivating birds and honeysuckles at the 
same time. Gradually they have come to consider 
the hedge their own, and I am soundly scolded 
if I approach their feasts with any appearance 

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thirteen] securing OUR ALLIES 

of meddling. The high-bush cranberry deHghts 
the pine grosbeaks and cedar birds in winter. It 
is delightful to see this winter robin — the superb 
red-necked grosbeak — a whole flock at a time, 
like fire on the snow. They sing like Jenny Lind, 
and they talk like the Autocrat at the Breakfast 
Table. Mr. Forbush, of Massachusetts, says, 
"Note that the mulberry trees, which ripen their 
berries in June, are a protection to the cultivated 
cherries, because they ripen somewhat earlier." 
Prof. Beal, of Michigan Agricultural College, 
names as protective of strawberries and cherries 
the Russian mulberry and the shadberry; and to 
protect raspberries and blackberries he would add 
the elderberry and the choke cherry. In September 
and October, birds that would meddle with the 
peaches and grapes can be fed on the wild black 
cherry and the Virginia creeper. As winter food 
for the birds, besides the viburnums, which I have 
named, we can supply bittersweet, pokeberry, bay- 
berry, hackberry, dogwoods, and mountain-ash 
berries. For these will come together warblers, 
vireos, and cuckoos. 

I have an idea that we can not only draw a great 
many more birds in summer to nest about us, but 

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can absolutely revolutionize bird life during the 
winter. Many of these little friends can easily 
enough endure the cold; and, in fact, no winter 
passes without a few robins and some others of our 
common birds are left behind by the flocks that go 
southward. Other sorts change their color, and 
stay with us as snow birds. I find no difficulty 
during the winter in gathering about my house a 
large number of nuthatches, chicadees, purple 
finches, and woodpeckers, by tying bones to the 
trees with a plenty of meat, and pieces of suet. 
Mrs. Davenport, of Vermont, adds to this list of 
birds, juncos, linnets, song sparrows, robins, blue 
jays and even orioles. All of these she feeds with 
hemp seed, cracked corn, sunfiower seed, bread 
crumbs, and especially with bread made of one- 
third wheat and two-thirds Indian meal. She puts 
up a window shelf, protected by an awning, on 
which she places the food, and so has the advan- 
tage of being able to enjoy the birds while they en- 
joy her gifts. This problem is not one of senti- 
ment only, but of practical domestic economy. 
Not only all summer are the birds destroying our 
worst enemies — the only ones that we cannot 
alone compete with — but all winter they are hunt- 

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ing everywhere for the eggs that are hidden away 
under the bark, and for borers that are in the trees. 
The poetry of life always has a practical side to it, 
and most practical affairs, rightly worked out, are 
full of poetry. 

Mr. Henry Oldys, biologist of the Geological 
Survey, speaks of birds as national property. He 
says, "Let the farmer remember that every bird 
destroyed, and particularly every nest robbed, is 
equivalent to a definite increase in insects with 
which he already has to struggle, and he will soon 
appreciate the fact that he has a personal interest, 
and a strong one, in the preservation of the birds. 
Robert Kennicott, a most careful and reliable ob- 
server, ascertained that a single pair of house wrens 
carried to their young about one thousand insects in 
a day. At this rate a young brood of wrens destroys, 
before leaving the nest, as many as ten thousand 
insects. According to the usual proportion, in the 
food of these birds, about six thousand of these 
insects are such as devastate crops. 

A home where robins, bluebirds, humming 
birds, wrens, chipping sparrows, catbirds, and 
orioles form an animated and friendly throng on 
bush and tree and sunny lawn, or pour their notes 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



from familiar points, and where roses, honey- 
suckle, violets, jasmine, spirea, and morning-glories 
abound, and fill the scene with beauty, while frag- 
rance floats in at the open windows, is far more at- 
tractive, and at the same time of greater commercial 
value, than one that is bare of flowers and silent of 
birds. "Birds will return year after year to the 
same spot, to build their nests and rear their young, 
and when some spring fails to bring the bluebird to 
the apple tree or the oriole to the elm, it is perhaps 
because lax laws and untrained characters some- 
where to the southward have destroyed the life 
that was a part of our farmstead. Strengthening 
the law and developing a love for nature will pre- 
vent such losses." 

When I cover my cherry trees with mosquito 
netting, I always leave a few uncovered for the 
birds. We have had a talk about it, and they say 
— which is reasonable — that when folk live by 
the Golden Rule they will set cherries all along the 
lines of old fences, and in the pasture lots, so that 
there will be enough for everybody everywhere, 
and what the birds take will not be noticed. I be- 
lieve that they are right; for when my berry gar- 
dens grew away from a small beginning to fields 

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that yielded hundreds of bushels, the birds also 
greatly increased, but what they took was no longer 
missed. I presume they do not get less than five 
per cent, of the crop. That is about half what I 
owe them for music alone. I shall always remain 
a debtor to my catbirds more particularly, and to 
all other bird visitors. I believe I will leave two 
more cherry trees uncovered hereafter. 

The bee is another factor of importance in coun- 
try life. I do not say that every family should, or 
must have, half a dozen hives of bees, but I believe 
the number of swarms should average half a dozen 
to all the households of the community. This is 
partly for the sake of food — one of the most de- 
licious and concentrated of all foods — but still 
more to secure the aid of our little friends in poUen- 
izing fruit. There are many apples, pears, and 
other fruits, as we have already seen, that cannot 
poUenize themselves sufficiently, and some of them 
not at all. This is a provision of nature to pre- 
vent uniformity and to secure evolution. Differ- 
ent varieties must be brought together in marriage, 
in order to unite their good qualities in children. 

The common brown honey bee is from Germany. 
The Italian bees have yellow abdominal bands, and 

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are said by some to be gentler to handle. They are 
at least better housekeepers in the way of debarring 
moths, while they cap their combs more perfectly. 
The Carnoleans, and Cyprians or Syrians complete 
the list of our domestic bees, and they have the best 
honey record. They are harmless when not mo- 
lested, but act like hornets when disturbed at their 
homes. What we still need is a longer- tongued 
bee, able to extract honey from red clover and 
from flowers that the ordinary bee cannot probe. 

Besides the honey bee we have five thousand vari- 
eties of bees, including bumble bees, carpenter 
bees, burrowing bees, cuckoo bees, and potter bees 
— all of them useful, although some of them do 
more or less mischief as well. The bumble bee 
does us no harm, and is especially valuable for 
cross-fertilizing clover. Among all of the bees not 
one is more interesting than the hornet. I have 
elsewhere spoken of his service in destroying the 
aphidse. The queen alone lives through the win- 
ter, by crawling into some warm corner, possibly 
into your garret. In the spring she begins to make 
paper, and starts a house. The first eggs produce 
a brood of small workers that aid in house build- 
ing; the next brood is of larger workers, and in the 

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early autumn a generation of males and females is 
produced. A good observer says, "I would rather 
have a colony of hornets in my orchard when it is 
infested with slugs, than to have the same number 
of barrels of London purple sprayed on my trees." 
They work hard all day, picking lice or slugs from 
the trees, which they devour or carry to their 
young. 

If all bees visited, indiscriminately, every sort of 
flower, it would happen that the pollen from one 
species would be carried to a wholly different 
species, where it would be useless. It is desirable 
that each kind of bee visit one particular kind of 
plant, or at least a few kinds. This proves to be 
the case, for there are many bees that never visit 
more than one sort of flowers. As the number of 
species of flowers is very great, it is not surprising 
that there are many kinds of bees. In many in- 
stances the mouth part of the bee is nicely suited to 
the flowery they select. Certain kinds, with very 
long tongues, suck nectar from long, tubular flow- 
ers, such as the yellow-flowered currant, while 
others, with short tongues, make use of shallow 
flowers. There are already reported nearly two 
thousand different species of wild bees in North 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



1 



America, and it is thought that the discovery and 
description has hardly begun. 

With modern appliances the management of our 
honey bees is not difficult. The head is covered 
with a broad shield, and the hands with gloves that 
are tied about the wrist. A little smoke of punky 
wood is puffed into the hive, and the supers that 
are filled with honey are easily removed. Swarms 
are gathered and hived with the same protection. 
In all cases promptness and decision are necessary, 
without nervous movements. The Falconer hive 
is one of the best, as it allows of the easy removal of 
the filled supers. When these are removed, others 
should be placed in their stead at once. My im- 
pression is that, with ordinary care, the amount of 
honey taken from twenty swarms in a single year 
will hardly exceed five hundred pounds — it should 
certainly reach that point. A portion of this will 
be brown or yellow honey, and not marketable. 
Very little of it will be unsuitable for home con- 
sumption. As freezing weather approaches, cush- 
ions of dry leaves or chopped straw are placed in 
the tops of the hives, and the bees winter on their 
out-of-door stands quite safely. In the spring it 
is often necessary to feed the weaker hives. This 

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THIRTEEN] SECURING OUR ALLIES 



can be done with the waste or inferior honey, or 
with sugar. 

There is hardly a single hopeless pest among the 
animals that you are likely to meet with in your 
new country home. One of the few is the English 
sparrow, a bird that has no redeeming qualities to 
make his mischief endurable. He feeds almost al- 
together on grain or fruit, destroying insects only 
when he must. He should be driven from every 
reputable homestead, as he can be by persistent 
antagonism and by making it comfortable for other 
sorts of birds. The crow kills a few mice without 
doubt, but he eats young robins. I allowed a tame 
crow to hop around my house for a few days. He 
stole everything that he could carry off, and one 
morning there were bird feathers outside the door. 
He had raided one of my catbird nests early in the 
morning. This led to a prompt remedy. Black- 
birds are such inveterate corn-pullers, and so much 
disliked by pet birds, that they also are left out of 
my commune. 

I am sorry that to this list of hopeless outcasts 
I must add the red squirrel. If one appears dur- 
ing nesting time in my trees, the whole lawn is in 
a flutter of excitement. They eat young birds 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



and eggs, besides boring holes in our roofs, to nest 
in our attics. 

I am puzzled whether to exclude the cat as the 
most malign and mischievous of all creatures, or to 
admit her to our country family as the most be- 
nign, helpful, and lovable of all animals, really 
fit to be a household deity, as she was in Egypt. 
Boxer is surely a very useful fellow, clearing the 
house of mice and the barn of rats. There is a 
certain poise and dignity about this animal, and a 
masterly bearing, if we can only keep him within his 
appropriate limits. . He guards my oat bin and my 
storage rooms admirably. 1 could sing his praises 
cheerfully, for he really has also an affection for 
me — nearly all animals take to me, and the rest 
take after me. But in bird season Boxer invariably 
goes into a huge warren, ten feet square, which he 
is compelled to use for his palace during the sum- 
mer — that is, through the whole of the bird-nesting 
period. In September he has once more his free- 
dom to range the property. In no other possible 
way can I prevent the demolition of my catbird 
and robin nests and the slaughter of the innocents. 
He does not like confinement; but, then, he has room 
and shelter, with plenty of food, and comes out 

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thirteen] securing OUR ALLIES 



fat as a winter woodchuck. In another huge cage 
is shut all summer another large, yellow cat — Li 
Hung Chang; but I believe the birds call him The 
Foreign Devil. You should hear the catbirds jaw 
him; and once in a while they take advantage of his 
captivity to perch over the cage and jeer at him. 1 
have seven or eight nests of this favorite bird, and 
when they concentrate vituperation on any crea- 
ture it is awful; it is probably profane. On the 
whole, we cannot get along very well in the country 
without pussy, although it is very difficult in bird 
time to get on with him. For intelligence, inside 
certain limits, the cat is certainly a very marvelous 
creature, but he is always a relative of the tiger. 
There are noble cats — almost honest cats, and 
there are cats that deserve all the execration of man 
and bird. Prof. Hodge insists that these pets of 
ours are destroying at least nine-tenths of the most 
beneficial birds that undertake to nest about our 
homes. 

If I were writing for city readers, I should say, 
try to get along without cats altogether. It will 
never be possible to create a bird paradise into 
which this animal may be admitted. Within a few 
years, however, by adopting the plan I have sug- 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



gested, that is, of shutting up my cats during the 
whole of the bird-nesting season, I am not only mul- 
tiplying the more common birds, but am winning 
to me the grosbeaks, indigo birds, scarlet tanagers, 
wood thrushes, song sparrows, and others that 
rarely draw near our houses; and all these, domes- 
ticating themselves about my house, my berry 
fields and my barns, are making of them a sort of 
Garden of Eden. At the same time I am reaping 
a benefit in all ways quite equal to that given to the 
birds. Joining our forces, we are able to absolutely 
exclude the English sparrow. He has given up all 
attempts to cross our boundary line. 

In some of the French villages boards are set up 
with the following inscriptions: 

*' Hedgehog: Lives upon mice, snails, and wire- 
worms — animals injurious to vegetation. Don't 
kill a hedgehog. 

" Toad: Helps agriculture; destroys twenty to 
thirty insects hourly. Don't kill a toad. 

^'Cockchafer and its Larvce: Deadly enemies to 
the farmers; lays seventy to one hundred eggs. 
Kill the cockchafer. 

''Birds: Each Department of France loses yearly 

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thirteen] securing OUR ALLIES 



many millions of francs through the injury done by 
insects. Don't kill the birds." 

There is a good lesson in these bulletins, and it 
was not a bad idea for the government to under- 
take this sort of instruction. Some one has re- 
cently discovered that there is no watch dog equal 
to a peacock as a guardian against thieves and 
marauders. Perched on the roof of an outbuild- 
ing or an arbor, this bird will announce in shrill 
notes, that can be heard half a mile away, the pres- 
ence of suspicious-looking strangers. Their eyes 
are always open, and they have the ability to see 
at almost any angle. I am glad that we can find a 
good excuse for allowing these beautiful creatures 
to strut about our lawns — an excuse beyond that 
of mere ornament. 

This book invites you out of the city, not to a 
mere home among the trees and flowers, but to a 
new and higher social order — a cooperation more 
complete than was ever before possible between 
men, creatures, and things. The drift toward con- 
centered life was needful to accumulate capital. 
The new swing of population is carrying this cap- 
ital outward, to a more equable distribution. 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

Electrical energy at the same time meets the mod- 
ern sciences, to enable us to apply them to land cul- 
ture. We are enabled, as never before, to study 
living nature about us. We must bear in mind 
that as we have not reached the end of evolution, 
neither have our companions. If we do not have 
all the birds we want, it is because we do not know 
enough about rearing them or protecting them. 
No one has yet produced the most beautiful rose, 
or the most delicious peach, or the most useful bird, 
or the noblest man, or anything else that the world 
is capable of yielding, "By proper care we can 
have a world full, not only of such birds as we have 
now, but of birds with sweeter song and more beau- 
tiful plumage. In presence of these infinite pos- 
sibilities for good or for ill, we must above all re- 
member that every human action tends to make 
the world a garden or a desert — a paradise of joy 
and beauty or a vale of tears." John Burroughs 
says that to produce and multiply endlessly, with- 
out ever reaching the last possibility of excellence, 
is the law of nature. 



[310] 



THIRTEEN] SECURING OUR ALLIES 



Farewell, farewell ! but this I tell 
To thee, thou Wedding Guest — 
He prayeth well ivho loveth well 
Both man and bird and beast. 
He prayeth best who loveth best 
All things both great and small; 
For the dear God who loveth us. 
He made and loveth all. 



[311] 



CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
CULTIVATING THE BEAUTIFUL 



OoME one says that cleanliness is next to Godli- 
ness; we may go farther, and say it is Godliness. 
There is no possible excuse for unsightly or un- 
seemly conditions in the country. We have come 
out of the city to command our conditions, and can 
command them. But we cannot do this if we our- 
selves are untrained and uncouth. A man cannot i| 
make his garden anything more beautiful than his 
own soul. And that is just what you want to con- y 
sider, that nasty slop holes and old brush piles and 
stinking cellars and unshapely yards are just your- 
self. What you are you will do. So you will first 
have to think finely, and to will finely. Then the 
effort to create a noble place will react to ennoble 
yourself. Your handsome lawn means that you 
can think handsomely; your clean orchards and 
gardens mean that you can feel purely. John Rus- 
kin says that the same laws underlie spiritual beauty 



I 



CULTIVATION 



that are associated with physical beauty. He 
names them as purity — a type of divine energy ; 
as unity — a type of divine comprehensiveness ; 
repose — a type of divine law. These principles 
are found in all beauty, from that of the lily to the 
character of Jesus. A notable preacher says, "It 
is not mere luxury which seeks for the beautiful. 
The man who scorns this side of life is like one who 
has lost an ear or an eye, and ridicules people who 
have the full use of all their senses. The atten- 
tion which the people give to the development of the 
beautiful is one of the tests of civilization. The 
hunger of the eye may be as real as that of the 
mouth. The poet sees an ideal world, and he sees 
it from the standpoint of the beautiful. The great- 
est artist that this country has ever produced was a 
landscape architect, Frederick Law Olmsted. 
The man who can aid nature in doing her best, who 
can take the forms of the trees and the shrubs, the 
delicate shading of colors, the texture of the leaves, 
the outline of the landscape, and blend all into a 
harmonious and beautiful picture, is a master." 
Every town and village should have such a man at 
its command, if possible. 

This love of the beautiful and the effort to create 

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the beautiful is, or should be, associated invariably 
with country work and country home-making. 
Here are a couple of letters. One of them has laid 
in my drawer for a good while, and has led to some 
exchange of plans. 

"Dear Sir: — I am somewhere between twenty 
and thirty — no matter about exact dates ; but I am 
at home with father and mother. The latter loves 
flowers, and so do I. She has hungered for them 
all her married life, but what she gets she gets her- 
self, and plants with my help. Now I want to in- 
duce father to see that he is living a too narrow life. 
He thinks, and says, that he has no time for the or- 
namental. He is not rich, but he is well-to-do, and 
he can afford to spend on refinements. Don't 
think our place is slovenly, for it is not. We have 
a decent orchard, and some good trees along the 
roadside, and mother and I have a few fine flower- 
ing plants. What I mean is that the whole place 
shows, at a glance, that it is run for the stomach, 
and not for the brain or character. I do not be- 
lieve this is necessary. I have a notion that a right 
sort of country place ought to show that those who 
own it are thinking of something besides crops to 

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eat and sell. 1 would like to hear less about golden 
streets by and by, and more about green, clean 
lawns right off —^ now. Brush heaps and slop holes 
do not belong here any more than in Heaven. 
That's my religion. I am going to apologize to you, 
a stranger, by sending you some seeds of a thorn- 
less gleditschia." 

And that is how I first got one of the handsomest 
trees on my lawns — the seed came from a Kansas 
girl who was hungry for the beautiful, and who 
wrote about it. Blessed are they that, having eyes, 
see. 

Here is another letter that explains itself: 

"Dear Sir : — You cannot conceive what pleasure 
I get by reading about the beautiful country. I 
had lived in a big city all my life, and had few 
chances at green fields. At last it was our fortune 
to go to the country to live. My husband had an 
opening as a mill-hand, and it took us close by a 
good-sized village. We had seven acres of garden 
and orchard. At first everything looked beautiful 
— everything. I could have kissed pigweeds, and 
I did make bouquets of Canada thistles. I got out 
of sight of folk, and just sat down in the grass and 

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said Howd'y do to the dandelions. I hugged a big 
mullen stalk, and just thanked it for coming up near 
the door. Husband smiled, and bought me holly- 
hock seed; and he let me help him plant corn. It 
was a full year before I could settle down to making 
much difference between weeds and useful things. 
I think still that some of the weeds are the hand- 
somest things in the world, and they must be use- 
ful somehow, only we don't yet know how. I 
had to make a difference, because I found that the 
beets and carrots could not be grown without being 
'weeded.' Now I have some pinks and roses, and 
a big clump of tiger lilies, and I have some lilacs 
and syringas. But I still think the big thing is not 
to go gallivanting all over creation to find rare 
things and make your place stylish, but to be able 
to see the sweet things right at home. So I have 
been collecting out of our woods and swamps, and 
have, oh, such a lot of fine things — ferns and 
leatherwood, and witch hazel, and gentian and 
lobelia, two beautiful orchids, seven kinds of 
mint, and I thought you would understand me, 
so I have written to you. I have no one who 
quite understands me here, but my husband looks 
on with sympathy and good nature." 

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fourteen] cultivation 

The every-day world, with a human soul in it, is 
a garden, and a weed patch is beautiful; but the 
glory of the world is that it can be improved, and 
we are here to think it out, and feel it out, and work 
it out. 

Intensive farming, which is the only farming that 
we are now considering, has the advantage that it 
involves the removal of all ugly waste spots. It 
cannot afford sloughs, brush piles, and old heaps of 
refuse — these are the very spots where the best 
crops can be raised. "There," said a young 
farmer, "that nasty puddle is worth thirty dollars 
a year." Then, going farther, he said, "That hor- 
rible barnyard should be reduced one half in size, 
and the rest of it drained. A row of twenty plum 
trees would grow in the cut-off part, each worth 
five dollars a year. Then over those barns vines 
should be growing and bearing Wordens and Niaga- 
ras and Lindleys, worth thirty or forty dollars a year 
more." Down a ravine, full of stones and broken 
crockery, he tramped with indignant steps. "A 
splendid place here," he cried, "for strawberries or 
for gooseberries, or, if you prefer, it could be a 
valuable vineyard. Grow lilies in the rows with 
the grapes, and set down this plot for fifty dollars a 

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year more." Striding along beside the fences, he 
said, "Here should be a windbreak of evergreens, 
and there should be one of Tartarian honeysuckle 
or high-bush cranberry, giving bushels of food for 
useful birds. The windbreaks and birds would be 
worth another large sum." In this way he walked 
over a farm of forty acres. It was one of those 
places that "don't pay." The reason was plainly 
because the best part of the land was going to waste, 
and that no attention was being paid to that do- 
mestic economy which makes everything at the 
same time useful and beautiful. To follow out the 
suggestions of the new owner would transform the 
whole place into a garden. This is what must 
come about in relation to all home-making in the 
country. Small homesteads will be the rule, and 
these will cultivate the beautiful as well as the 
useful. 

It is so easy to make the beautiful and the useful 
work together, that I wonder that they are ever 
divorced. A handsome lawn, fine hedges, a clean 
and shaded highway, a shrubbery giving glimpses 
of continuous bloom, raise the market value of the 
property. I knew a man who shot a breachy cow, 
and then smilingly paid a fifty dollar fine, saying: 

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"It was a thousand dollars in my pocket. The 
animal, breaking loose in the night, would soon have 
torn my hedges and undone thirty years of work, 
care, and cost." The money value of the orna- 
mental is not easily overestimated. My own 
hedges, if extended in one line, would be a mile long. 
With about four acres planted to trees and shrubs, 
and five to berries, orchards and vineyards, I am 
able to sell $1,000 to $1,200 worth of fruit, honey, 
and vegetables annually. If the flowers went to 
market the cash income would be considerably in- 
creased. My drives are in length not less than half 
a mile, yet they are positive economy. Reaching 
about the house, and around the barn, and into the 
hearts of the gardens, they are too convenient at 
every pomt to be spared. 

The street-side should be particularly devoted 
to the beautiful. Here we may plant many of the 
fruit trees for shade, or we may select such superb 
blossoming trees as the catalpa or the linden. The 
grouping of evergreens down a roadway is often 
agreeable. In some New England towns, and a 
few New York towns, I have seen the choicer 
shrubs in full bloom within reach of the hands of 
pedestrians, yet have been surprised that they were 

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rarely plucked. The lilac reaches to you its per- 
fume, and the cherry tree its fruit in the suburbs and 
main streets of Ithaca, N. Y., Cleveland, Ohio, and 
Louisville, Ky. Why not? This is vastly more 
human than cultivating your fine things behind 
board fences, or stone walls, or even hedges. 
Flower beds in the street are better than cows 
and swine. We shall probably see, by and by, 
all of our ugly, weed-bedraggled highways turned 
into a great, continuous public garden, reaching 
everywhere among the rich and the poor, and 
binding all homes together with bands of beauty 
and good- will. In one sense we are all one family, 
and while we should develop well-defined indi- 
viduality, we must remember what Emerson says, 
that we can " make society out of nothing but 
individuals" — all other people constitute masses. 
In the country we must never get lost in indi- 
vidual tastes and turn our independence into 
idiosyncrasy. There is a social exclusiveness, but 
there is an equally offensive unsocial seclusiveness. 
The sense of remoteness from others is to many 
intolerable ; to others it is the controlling sentiment. 
I have a neighbor who owns, but cannot occupy, 
seventy acres, and he is constantly bewailing his 

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fourteen] cultivation 



lack of elbow room. A very lively sort of person 
can occupy the whole of twenty acres. I mean he 
can just about fill twenty acres plumb-full of him- 
self — his whims, his notions, his experiments. 
But most people cannot fill out more than five or 
ten acres. Farms of one hundred acres are, for 
the most part, either left for nature to fill up, or are 
occupied by the fringed-out edges of the owner's 
purposing — his unfinished work, his untrimmed 
orchards, his half-cultivated corn fields. 

When I began laying out my present home, a 
member of the Hayseed family, driving by, asked 
me if I was staking out a railroad. I told him the 
stakes meant lines of curving hedges. " How long 
will it take you to get all that work done.^^" "I 
will get the trees set within two years. These 
spruces will not all live; I must fill the vacancies 
next year." " How much will it all cost ?'* " Sev- 
eral hundred dollars, and in the long run thou- 
sands." "When will you get your money back.^" 
"The doing of it is worth all that it will cost, be- 
cause it will grow up a crop of thoughts in my soul. 
But in five years I will get some cash returns — not 
much of it, however, inside of eight or ten years." 
"Aren't you a fool?" "Very likely, if judged 

[3^21] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



by the common standard. But, my friend, did you 
ever read that ' man cannot live by bread alone ' ? 
Now, hark you, I have thirteen acres. I will so 
raise the price of these thirteen acres that in fifteen 
years they will be worth more in money than your 
ninety-five acres, and while I will have one-third of 
them to ornament, I will get more income from the 
rest than you will get from your whole farm." He 
called on me last fall, and walked about through 
my hedges, shrubbery, gardens, orchards. " Wal !" 
he said, "I didn't conceit you could do it, but you 
did. You've the handsomest place in Central 
New York — made out of an old pasture and or- 
chard — and it was pretty shallow soil at that — 
some of it was. You've got it drained; the soil is 
strong and rich. You are making more cash ojff it 
than we fellows can with big farms. You've got all 
the handsomest flowers, and all the new fruits. 
Your railroad track is just the completest lot of 
roadway I ever see. It goes to every part of your 
place with solid bottom. The hedges are splen- 
did. You've cultivated the beautiful, and, by 
gosh ! you've made money at it. How much is yer 
place worth — not less than $25,000, hey ? You 
sold off four acres for $5,000 besides. You've got 

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fourteen] cultivation 



nine acres — as pretty a thing as I ever saw or ex- 
pect to see. How much have you sold from it this 
year?" I showed him my accounts, which netted 
me over eleven hundred dollars for sales inside of 
twelve months. "Man alive!" he said. ** Here's 
no big sale of anything except apples, but there's 
honey, and cherries, and currants, and berries, and 
plums, and trees, and vinegar, and cider, and chick- 
ens, and eggs, and every dollar's worth sold to pri- 
vate customers. You don't mean to say you sold 
all these summer apples at eighty cents to one dol- 
lar a bushel ? Why, mine rotted on the ground — 
except a few that a pedler paid me twenty cents a 
bushel for. And your own cider mill has ground 
up over forty barrels of drops, and of unsalable 
stock, so far — and it is only September 20th ? 
Got an engine of your own, eh ? and a cider press ? 
and a shop for repair ? How much was there saved 
on those forty barrels ? Vinegar twenty cents a 
gallon, at least two gallons to a bushel from early 
apples, and three from later fruit. That would be 
from a dollar to two dollars a barrel from what I've 
let rot. Cider at twenty- five cents a gallon ! Lordy, 
man! Why, your drops average two dollars a 
barrel, and you have sold your other apples at three 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



dollars! Well, that is because you have got your 
own custoniers." 

I let him look over the day-book as long as he 
liked, and then asked him if he thought that, all in 
all, it did not pay to cultivate the beautiful. 
" Yaas," he said, " if you have sense to do it. But, 
then, you have done more than that. You've been 
and got your customers, and you've suited them 
with the very finest stuff, and you've put yer 
weight down, where the rest of us are weak. We 
grow a big lot of stuff, and then lack a market. 
There is one more thing you've got — the very best 
storage cellars I ever saw. Don't think they cost 
much more than our cellars, either. Here are 
proper bins, clean as waxed, no bad odors, a brook 
running through, solid walls, ceiled over, dark 
when you choose, easy to keep tight, and just as 
easy to ventilate. 

" Well, here it is again, croquet ground and lily 
beds, and roses blossoming in September! Can't 
all of us go into that. But we might have more fine 
trees, and grapevines on the barns, and hollyhocks, 
and we can have windbreaks and some hedges. 
We could clean up rubbish, get rid of old waste, 
broken trees, and useless fences, and make money 

[324] 



fourteen] cultivation 



at it. I guess, Powell, you are right; there is 
money in the beautiful. How is a fellow to get at 
it .''" I told him I thought that people in the coun- 
try did not have the right sort of reading, and in the 
second place they did not hear or see what was 
about them. "Write us a book," he said; "make 
it plain, practical, straightforward, and helpful. 
I'll read it." 

I have kept this idea of the beautiful in view in all 
my chapters. It must never be lost sight of in 
making a true country home. In selecting location, 
in building, in planting, and in all other ways, we 
seek the trinity of Plato — " The Beautiful, the 
True, and the Good." One thing about this work 
is that it is very catching. One man, working out 
an ideal, sets his neighbors at it. The influence 
spreads, and the example will constantly be im- 
proved upon. A recent writer says, "I know a 
city that was called by Sir Edwin Arnold the Venice 
of America because of its beauty. There is one 
street in that city more beautiful than any other; 
there is one block on that street the most beautiful 
of all. In that block stands the residence of a 
United States Senator, and in front of his residence 
the walks turn about two or three maple trees, that 

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THE COUNTRY HOME 



they may be saved ; and there is not a street in that 
city in which the attempt is made to bring the side- 
walk down to the grade of the street, if valuable 
trees must be destroyed." It is said of Judge Con- 
ger, that when a man hitched his horse to a valu- 
able tree, he was well scored; and when he offered 
to pay for the tree, the Judge said, "You poor fool! 
it took God Almighty one hundred years to make 
that tree, and you won't live long enough to pay 
your debt." Man who spoils is the same man who 
can create and improve. We have a century be- 
hind of us of mutilation; we must have a century 
ahead of sympathy and cooperation with nature. 
This must involve not only work on the part of our 
government, but on the part of individuals. We 
must learn the great truth that man can cultivate 
the beautiful and make money at it. The eco- 
nomics of the country home take in the flowers 
and the trees, as well as the beets and the turnips. 



[326] 



CHAPTER FIFTEEN 
HAPPY ANIMALS 



1 ERHAPS I have said enough already about mak- 
ing our animals happy, but I can afford a short 
chapter to my hobby. I remember with sweet ten- 
derness a little mother who, when a sudden storm 
came up, fixed open umbrellas over her hens, that 
were hitched by their legs to keep them from set- 
ting. The less merciful wind lifted the umbrellas 
into the tops of neighboring apple trees. All the 
same, the little mother had done her best, and 
shown that she had a heart. The hens clucked on 
in the teeth of the storm, and oiled themselves from 
nature's oil can. 

A neighbor, who had collected the water from 
the hills into his stable yard, where he had a splen- 
did fountain bubbling fresh for his horses, built 
over it a great well-house. I asked him why he 
did it, and he said it was purely to save time. 
"Perhaps, sir," he said, "you never noticed that 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



when you lead out horses to drink, they spend a 
great deal of time looking around. A few swal- 
lows, and then a long look over the landscape — 
they like it right well. They hear everything going 
on, and see as much as we do, in my opinion. 
Horses, sir, are not stupid creatures; they are very 
observing, and enjoy landscapes and pleasant sur- 
roundings as much as they do the green grass; 
that, sir, is as I look at it. Now if you have nine 
horses to lead out to water, and each one takes up 
twenty minutes, it uses up about three hours time 
— ■ half of an afternoon. I can't afford it, so I built 
this house over the water, and the animals drink 
right along, and get through with it. It takes about 
half an hour to satisfy the whole of them. Merely 
a question of farm economy, sir. Sentiment is a 
good thing, if it doesn't cost too much. I presume 
that as you keep only one horse, you get on very 
well with a tank uncovered." I had noticed the 
same habit with my Morgan mare, but had at- 
tributed it to the rare intelligence and the really 
poetic instinct of that breed of horses; they are al- 
most human. But I am inclined to think that all 
animals love the beautiful. Following an opposite 
track from my neighbor, I would provide for this 

[ 328 ] 



FIFTEEN] HAPPY ANIMALS 



animal sentiment, and cultivate their taste for the 
beautiful. 

Try an experiment in your barnyard. Open it well 
to the south and east; make it clean and keep it 
sweet; slope the ground to keep it always dry and 
comfortable — underdrain if necessary. Then let 
your animals sleep there. Go out about nine or 
ten of a moonlight night, and see what you may see 

— as happy a sight, I will warrant, as you will find 
inside your own household. The cows will be ly- 
ing down to face the moon and landscape. They 
will be chewing cud, and at the same time evidently 
meditating. That they are figuring out Euclid 
propositions I don't suppose; but they are study- 
ing nature in their realm — it may be as wide a 
realm as our own. Cows treated in this way make 
morally better behaved cows, as a rule. 

I see no reason why our cows should not have 
box stalls, with running water, as well as our horses. 
We have so far done very little to humanize the cow 

— probably as little as for any creature associated 
with us. It is only for milk, and for butter, and for 
beef, that we have cared for her. Some day there 
will be a breed of cows as intelligent as horses and 
dogs, and cleanly in their habits. Going to my 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 

vacation home, while preaching in St. Louis, I was 
told, " You will have to kill that pet Ayrshire cow of 
yours ; she tried to kill her own calf, and it will take 
a regiment to milk her." Going to the barnyard, I 
found her tied up in a tight frame, with long pegs 
in front and behind her fore legs, and similar pegs 
confining her hind legs. Then one man, with a 
long fly-brush, dusted the flies from her, while an- 
other gingerly « undertook to draw her milk. In 
spite of ropes and pegs and bars, she made it lively 
for them. I put a rope around her horns, and led 
her out to some delicious grass. I did this two or 
three times, without making any remarks to her. 
Then one morning I went to the gate, and holding 
up the rope, said, "Juno, hold your horns, and let 
me put this on quietly, and you shall have your 
grass." It was a good half hour's argument, but 
at last she brought her head to the bars, and actu- 
ally helped to get the rope around the horns. In- 
side a single week she would stand quietly any- 
where in the open meadow, while a decent man 
could milk her without a battle. 

Mr. Cornish, in an admirable volume concern- 
ing animals, compares them with children. He 
says: "No one can have failed to notice how par- 

[ 330 ] 



fifteen] happy animals 



ticular children are about their beds — how much 
they object to having them altered; how they insist 
on their being made in their own way, and carry 
their newest and most valued possessions up to bed 
with them, and poke them away under blankets and 
pillows. Animals do exactly the same. And a 
pet dog, who is on the friendliest terms with mas- 
ter and servant, often makes the most ridiculous 
fuss if any one moves the box in which he sleeps. 
Dogs nearly always have a hoard hidden away 
in their bed, or near it. Cats choose the cleanest 
and freshest places for their beds. An Angora re- 
fused to sleep anywhere except upon a lady's hat — 
if it could find one. The cat is very much affected 
by odors that are not perceptible to us. They dis- 
like contact with certain people as much as they 
like to be near others. A little watchfulness will 
discover these attractions and repulsions among all 
animals. To humor costs us little, as a rule, but 
to refuse very much depresses the comfort of the 
animal." 

This is especially true of dogs. In Kansas City 
I heard of a black-and-tan who followed his mis- 
tress to the grave, and remained there, with casual 
visits for food, until he died. This dog came when 

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THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



called, looked up into your face with intelligent in- 
quiry, and immediately lapsed into a picture of sor- 
row and wretchedness, creeping back to his rest- 
ing place by the grave. In my own family one of 
my large cats formed a strong attachment for a 
young man who spent a few months at my house. 
After his departure the cat sought him, restlessly, 
all over the place. Finally, discovering one of his 
cast-off garments, she made a bed of it, and seemed 
somewhat comforted. 

Not many months ago I was driving along a val- 
ley road, when I met a boy astride a Holstein bull, 
which he was riding to a neighboring brook. This 
animal seemed to have lost his natural propensi- 
ties, and was entirely devoted to the will of his mas- 
ter. A story comes to me from a Massachusetts 
paper of a boy who has a power over nearly every 
animal that he approaches. Every stray dog or cat 
in the neighborhood knows him and loves his com- 
pany. A vicious horse, which the stable men can- 
not handle, will stand like a lamb while he har- 
nesses and unharnesses him. The doves fly all 
around him, and in the woods the wild birds appar- 
ently regard him as a friend and ally. 

Jane Layng tells us of a fine lad, in Southern 

[ 332 ] 



fipteen] happy animals 



Ohio, who had this sense of kinship for everything 
about him. " He had only to throw himself down 
upon the lawn in front of his home, and the little 
creatures of the air and the shy squirrels would for- 
get their timidity and come near to him. Little 
birds would gradually close in upon him, until they 
stood on his hands. He had a caressino- tone 
which proved irresistible to them, and if they were 
speeding after a bug in another direction, they 
would turn at his. call and go to him." He had a 
pet hen which was entirely given up to this senti- 
ment of affection. He would say, "Come here, 
Topsy, " and the fluffy hen would leave her com- 
panions and go to him. " Now sing for us, Topsy !" 
he would say, and the foolish-looking creature 
would stand, and make her unmusical laying song, 
till he told her to stop. " Come into the house with 
me, Topsy! and sing to my friends in there." 
Thereupon she allowed herself to be set upon a 
stool, where she sung her guttural sang to the de- 
light of the household. The same authority tells 
us that she knew another lad, in California, with 
much the same power. One day his mother saw, 
with consternation, fourteen strange cats at his 
heels who had never before seen him, but were 

[333] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



thus drawn by his call, to follow where he led. Is 
there not, after all, some truth in the Pied Piper of 
Hamelin ? 

Certain I am that the exercise of manly sym- 
pathy throughout the whole homestead will work 
a marvelous change in animals, birds, and even in 
insects. I shall never forget how my father carried 
a swarm of bees to a neighbor's, living one-eighth 
of a mile from his home. He cut the limb, on 
which the bees were hanging, and started up the 
street, the bees crawling all over his hand until they 
reached his shoulder, where a large part of them 
rested. He was entirely unprotected against them, 
except, with his common clothing. Reaching the 
house of the friend who had purchased the bees, 
they were astounded at his appearance, and ex- 
claimed in terror. My father simply laughed a 
quiet laugh, and brushed the bees with a gentle 
touch into a hive. 

Prof. Mason S. Stone, for some time Superin- 
tendent of Education in Vermont, says that, "Next 
to the discipline that comes from hand work, the 
best discipline that comes to a boy is the reflex 
training that comes to himself from training ani- 
mals. That which brings out the confidence of 

[ 334 ] 



FIFTEEN] HAPPY ANIMALS 



self-control, of self-mastery, comes through train- 
ing something else. Every boy on a farm ought 
each year to have a dog or a colt to train, or a pair 
of steers to break. One day last summer my at- 
tention was attracted to a boy and a pair of steers 
in a city street. They were Holsteins, with great 
patches of white on shoulder and flank, beauti- 
ful with their even-turned horns, straight backs, 
heads shapely, legs shapely, and eyes as gentle as 
doves. It was necessary for him to exercise self- 
control. He could not have broken those steers to 
go with him through a crowded city street unless 
he had also broken himself. He was cleanly 
dressed, had guileless eyes, a wholesome face, and 
was a manly match for his own steers." 

At Alton, 111., resided, until recently, a man 
named James Chessen, who trained all the ani- 
mals on his farm until they became almost human 
in their behavior. He talked to them as he would 
to human beings, and they seemed to have a full 
understanding of his conversation. Horses would 
follow him like dogs, and become apparently as- 
similated to his opinions on matters quite foreign 
to horse life. He owned one of the celebrated 
Wilkes stock of race horses, that seemed to posi- 

[335] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



lively converse with his master. One dog was 
trained to run between the horses' hind legs, to 
prevent interference. In this w^ay everything about 
the farm was cooperative in its intelligence. 

Can we ever reach the ideal life of peace on 
earth, when the lion and the lamb will lie down to- 
gether ? I believe this depends, not upon the ani- 
mals so much, as upon the one who claims to be 
their master. Pictures that point in that direc- 
tion seem to me &o beautiful that I am inclined to 
quote from the New York Sun its story of a gypsy, 
living at Northwood, N. Y. : " Breek, that being his 
name, found no difficulty in surrounding himself 
with bluejays, mink, and rabbits, who came freely 
to his door to be fed and to listen to his voice." 
It used to be said of Thoreau that foxes would go 
to him with confidence. They certainly would flee 
from hunters, and betake themselves to this North- 
wood hermit. " It is believed that Breek's eyes 
have something to do with his power over animals. 
They are dark, full of luster, and direct in their gaze. 
A dog, angry at a child for having stepped on its 
tail, on the porch of a store, started to snap at it. 
Breek said something quickly, and the dog, at a 
single glance, slunk away promptly." 

[3361 



FIFTEEN] HAPPY ANIMALS 



One of the poets tells us our reign should be 
extended not only over the earth, but over the skies : 

"Not even the birds sJiould forgotten be, 

At Christmas time " — little Love says he — 

" So I will deck them a Christmas tree.'' 

And the birds came flocking around to see. . 

Over the slippery, upstanding rock, 

And, the frozen snow in cold, icy blocks — 

On each berryless bough that sadly mocks 

Their hungry souls, birds appeared in flocks. 

Love stood on the tips of his small, bare toes, 

Llanging strings of red hips and haivs in rows — 

For the little birds love such gifts he knows. 

And over the white, surrounding snows. 

Are prints of tiny, eager feet — 

Of the birds who all come, in hopes to eat. 

With bursts of song, little Love they greet. 

Says he, "Merry Christmas "; they say, "Sweet." 

Making animals thoroughly happy not only de- 
velops a sort of affection for ourselves, but a marked 
courtesy for each other. Our Dumb Animals tells 
a story of what it calls "A Gentlemanly Dog." 
While on a stage trip through Kentucky, the writer 
of the story saw a small kitten just ahead in the 
roadway. It was too young to know its danger, 
when suddenly a large dog, which was with a gang 

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of workmen, leaped into the middle of the road by 
the kitten. He was about to seize it with his teeth, 
which he instantly realized would possibly hurt it; 
instead, he placed himself behind the kitten, and 
with his nose boosted it out of danger. The New 
York Tribune tells of a St. Bernard dog, belonging 
to a farmer near Boston. '*A widow lady lives 
near-by, and Jack has constituted himself her pro- 
tector. If a tramp appears on the street, he im- 
mediately trots to this neighbor's house and stays 
on guard until he is sure of her safety. He is gal- 
lant enough, when she visits his master's house, of 
an evening, to wait upon her home to the door of her 
house." The *S^. Louis Republic tells of a couple 
of horses, each one attached to a buggy, in front of 
the Merchants' Exchange. They were hitched sev- 
eral feet apart, but the straps allowed them to get 
their heads together. One of them had been given 
a feed of oats, in a bag, and was contentedly 
munching them. The other horse was evidently 
hungry, and neighed in an insinuating manner. 
His neighbor pricked up his ears politely, and re- 
plied in horse language — evidently asking the 
other to help himself. The strap was not long 
enough, and his hungry mouth fell short of the bag. 

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fifteen] happy animals 



The possessor of the oats thereupon pushed his 
bag with his nose, until the other could reach it. 
Then, after a friendly nose-rub of salutation, the 
two horses finished the oats together. 

It pays to treat any animal with kindness, but 
especially a horse. A well-treated and properly 
fed horse will last thirty years, and be of good ser- 
vice most of the time. It is a sad comment on our 
country economy that most horses are killed off 
within fifteen years. I have in mind a minister of the 
Gospel, a man in a position to make his example 
tell, who drives his horse up hill and down hill on a 
jump, and manages to ruin a noble animal within 
three years. Prof. Mingo says, "It is foolish, 
brutal, and inhuman to think that you can whip an 
idea into a horse ; it cannot be done. Colts should 
be educated, not broken." There is a big volume 
in this. I have seen enough of both of these under- 
takings to know that he is correct. If you will be 
gentle and rational with a horse, he will learn rapidly 
to respond with reason. A young horse should 
never know that a whip exists. Educate him to do 
his best , and then help him while he is trying to do 
it. Help with words, and with the lines. Pound- 
ing never did a bit of good. A balky horse is sim- 

[339] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chafter 

ply a horse that has been so badly educated that 
he gives it up; you can make anything balk — 
children as well as animals. You cannot cure it 
except by common sense and gentleness. Rarey 
says, "Horses never balk until forced into it by 
bad management. Kindness cures all trouble 
with horses." H. C. Merwin says, "A kind word 
for a horse is as good as a feed of oats. The horse 
is far more intelligent than many suppose. Talk- 
ing to him, caressing him, praising him — with 
little gifts of sugar, apples, and candy, render him 
safer and more obedient." "We ought to have 
a school, or a department of the public school, to 
teach the art of driving. Jerking bits in an 
animal's mouth, yelling, and slashing a weary 
team, mark an incompetent driver." The best 
drivers are quiet, patient, and kind. They know 
that when they handle the reins it is mainly to 
assist the horse with slight touches and sugges- 
tions. 

Not having a tail to wag, and too large to be 
played with, cat-fashion, the horse's range of emo- 
tional expression is somewhat limited, yet he has 
a capacity in his voice that is quite beyond the range 
of nearly all other animals. He has learned to 

[ 340 ] 



fifteen] happy animals 



whinny in such a way as to express his desires, his 
tastes, his affection, and his hatred. "It is an easy 
matter for an observant owner to learn whether his 
hired attendant treats his horse rightly ; he has only 
to watch the creature's demeanor toward the 
groom," Some horses will evince decided pleas- 
ure when the attendant comes about them; others 
will only tell their story by being quiet and docile. 
" One animal that I owned, while a model of gentle- 
ness when well treated, would kick and bite the 
man who used her roughly." The same writer tells 
us, " Leaving a favorite pony for a year, to the care 
of other persons, she grew gaunt, and constantly 
ran down in spirits as well as flesh; but when I re- 
turned she exhibited the highest degree of pleasure, 
and at once began to fatten." It is said of Gold- 
smith Maid that she cared only for Budd Doble; 
and when retired from the track, her attendants 
could approach her only with the utmost care. 
When Doble visited her, he was warned to beware 
of approaching very near; but, to the surprise of all, 
on hearing his voice, the glorious mare trotted 
across the field, and showed every manifestation 
of delight. She marshaled up her baby for his in- 
spection, permitted him to handle it, and when he 

[341] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



left she stood at the bars, gazing after him until he 
was out of sight. 

It is from the economic standpoint that I like to 
approach this question. It does not pay to make 
anything unhappy; it pays to make everything 
about us as comfortable as possible. I have no 
liking for swine, yet in a small country homestead 
they can often be kept as profitably as hens. The 
object is to have some way of disposing of the house 
waste and garden surplus. Some of this can go to 
the cow , and often a horse likes nothing better than 
a pail of nicely prepared stuff from the kitchen. A 
laborer's family, without a horse, will probably 
keep a pig — and wisely. As generally treated, 
these are vile companions, housed in filth. Allowed 
the run of the orchard, they are far from offen- 
sive, and are at the same time valuable in the way of 
destroying grubs in the soil and in wormy apples. 
Such pigs make healthy meat, while those bred in 
filth do not. Prof. Shaler, of Harvard University, 
says, "It is commonly supposed that our pigs are 
among the least intelligent of the creatures which 
man has turned to his use. This is due to the fact 
that the condition in which these animals are kept 
insures their degradation, by cutting them off from 

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fifteen] happy animals 



all the natural mental training which wild animals 
receive. In the state of nature pigs are among the 
most sagacious of all creatures, and trainers have 
found them more apt in receiving instruction than 
any other of our animals. Given a decent chance, 
the pig is more cleanly in his habits than the cow. 
He will always use a corner of his pen as a closet, 
and never soil his bedding. There is no feature of 
our civilization more horrible than the herding of 
hogs in close quarters, without proper exercise, and 
feeding them on garbage, until they become huge 
bulks of poisonous meat, to be sold for human 
food." 

Frances E. Willard used to say that she consid- 
ered teaching kindness to animals a sacred mission 
of Christianity, next to that of teaching kindness 
to human beings. We have altogether too much of 
positive cruelty on our farms, but what I desire 
this chapter to accomplish is to teach the value of 
kindness. It is curious to note in how many ways 
an affectionate animal will manage to cooperate 
with us in making a happy home. The collie dog 
is not satisfied unless he can be doing something 
in the way of helping us about the barn and with 
the animals. I pity a collie that has never had a 

[343] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [ciiapteu 



chance to express his helping instinct. His home 
may be very deHghtful, but if he has never been 
able to show what is in him, he will not be com- 
pletely happy. I do not wonder that occasionally 
such dogs slip into bad company and bad ways. 

If we will take the trouble to get rid of bad breeds 
of cats, and cultivate only the best results of ani- 
mal evolution, I think we shall find that we have 
something better than a mere mouser. A friend 
of mine tells me of his cat, that enjoys nothing 
better than fishing, often landing a perch or pick- 
erel or bass weighing three or four pounds. This 
cat has learned to associate his fishing propensi- 
ties with the family larder, for he never attempts to 
eat the fish that he catches, but carries it home and 
lays it at his mistress's feet. He generally hunts 
alone, but sometimes starts out with the family dog, 
and they will occasionally return with about an 
equal share of game — not unf requently par- 
tridges. I had myself a beautiful maltese, who 
would ride on my shoulder to a pond where frogs 
abounded, and would leap from my shoulder and 
catch a victim much more quickly tlian I could get 
it in any other way. A reliable story reaches me 
of a cat at Stockton, California, whose mistress has 

[ 344 ] 



fifteen] happy animals 



a fine almond grove. In summer, when the nuts 
begin to ripen and fall to the ground, the cat and its 
mistress work side by side, every fine morning, 
gathering the nuts. *' Richelieu darts back and 
forth, busily picking up the almonds, one at a 
time, with his teeth, and dropping them into the 
basket. This he continues to do until he has 
made a much more sure cleaning of the ground 
than his mistress could do. When she feels a 
gentle tug at her dress, and a loud purring as he 
rubs against her skirt, she understands that the 
nuts are all in the basket." This same cat is re- 
ported to be quite as expert at a small churn as a 
Newfoundland dog. What is more curious is, 
that he knows just when the butter has come and 
should be taken from the churn. I think the secret 
is very much as it is with children ; train an animal 
to find its fun in work, and work becomes its 
passion. 

We need to comprehend the fact that we are 
not so far removed from other living creatures. 
There is a possible communication between us 
much more wide and much more deep than we are 
fond of confessing. We must not wait for animals 
to learn our language, but must have the courtesy 

[345] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



to undertake to comprehend their methods of ex- 
pression. An acute observer tells us that she 
watched her cat feeding two kittens. Each kitten 
could understand the call of its mother, when she 
brought a mouse, and never responded when the 
other one was summoned. Youatt asserted that two 
hounds which he possessed understood French; 
it is more likely that he thoroughly understood dog 
language. Prof. Evans thinks that an animal 
language could be constructed, by using which we 
could communicate with quite a range of the higher 
mammals. 

Animal language is, at its base, precisely the 
same as our own; it is only in its evolution that it 
has differentiated into unlike channels. Bayard 
Taylor tells us that the Hindoos and Arabs always 
talk to their elephants and camels as if they were 
human. Taylor himself found that, by talking to 
his dromedary, the animal after a few months cer- 
tainly did understand much that he said. Going 
to Barnum's Museum, Taylor saw the hippopot- 
amus looking very dejected; when he spoke to him 
in Arabic, saying, " I know you; come here to me," 
the huge animal at once turned his head ; and when 
the words were repeated, it came up to Taylor and 

[ 346 ] 



fifteen] happy animals 



pressed its head against the bars while its muzzle 
was stroked. Taylor thought that among caged 
lions he had also found some that recognized 
Arabic. Darwin says, "Man uses, in common 
with the lower animals, inarticulate cries to express 
his meaning, aided by gestures and movements 
of the muscles of the face. These gestures and 
movements are more expressive than any words. 
They flow out in the music of the birds, and into 
the articulation of man." 

No vision of the future will be reasonably com- 
plete that does not anticipate a greatly increased 
power of understanding our animal friends and 
bird friends, and consequent intercourse between 
them and ourselves. 

Rev. Jenks Lloyd Jones tells me that, "Last 
Sunday Tessie, a Scotch collie dog, stood on a pul- 
pit platform and was the attraction at the St. 
James' Methodist Sunday-school. She told the 
children the number of the Apostles, the number of 
verses in their Sunday-school lesson, and the num- 
ber of days in the year. She added, subtracted, 
and divided; and she told the children the name 
of the figure on the blackboard, which was written 
and erased during her absence. Of course she had 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



to do it by barking. Tessie is no humbug, as Mr. 
Classon, her intelligent and loving companion, is 
neither a fraud nor an adventurer. He says the 
only explanation is that of telepathic influence. 
When the brain of a dog becomes so sensitive to 
its human companionship, so responsive, that it 
catches the movements of the human mind and 
transforms them into volitional impulses of dog 
consciousness, we have a revelation of the power of 
education, the contagious character of thought, the 
rewards of companionship and of social psychol- 
ogy that is profoundly suggestive." 

You have, plainly, something more to do in com- 
ing out of the herded city life than simply to build 
a home and enjoy what you can of the world as it 
is. You have something far higher to do — that 
is, to make the world better, and everything in it 
wiser and happier. I think people are beginning 
to understand this, so far as improvement of fruits, 
vegetables, and flowers is concerned, but it is not 
so clearly understood that we have also to raise up 
the whole animal kingdom. It may be that in the 
highest sense the end of creative purpose is the evo- 
lution of man, but sure it is that we cannot go up 
alone. All life is one life, and you must come out 

[ 348 ] 



FIFTEEN] HAPPY ANIMALS 



here to sympathize and to help. This chapter 
does not leave out the economics of the question, 
but it goes one step farther, and undertakes to il- 
lustrate our alliance with all living creatures — for 
their sake, as well as our own. It believes in co- 
operation to establish a happy world as firmly as 
it believes in cooperation to secure better crops. 
This is one chief opportunity in going back to coun- 
try life — that we may go with beneficence, and not 
with selfishness. Already, coincident with the ex- 
odus, there has been a great increase of Audubon 
Societies. We are at last able to stop the wearing 
of birds and birds' plumage by women — a re- 
form impossible so long as the city gauged our re- 
lation to life and living things. 



[349] 



CHAPTER SIXTEEN 
NOOKS AND CORNERS 



JNooKS and corners may be so multiplied that a 
home in the country shall utilize all those places 
that ordinarily are given to weeds and thickets. 
These should be distributed all over the property. 
The evergreen arbors constitute delightful re- 
treats. A turn of the hedge on one side follows your 
drive, but on the other makes a quiet, half- 
shaded semicircle, for a rustic seat or possibly a 
hammock. Of these you cannot have too many. 
Your whole homestead should speak the word play, 
as well as the word work — rest as well as toil. It 
will not hurt you, or any of your helpers, to sit in 
the shade a few moments during what we call the 
working hours. If you have a sneak, who cannot 
be trusted near a rustic seat, he cannot be trusted 
anywhere. Cure him, or discharge him. Walk- 
ing with a neighbor, I said, *'What a splendid spot 
that for a natural arbor. You could see from 



NOOKS AND CORNERS 



there over the whole valley, and could read miles of 
landscape." "Pshaw! " he said, "I have no time 
for fooling. I have to get up and get, from four 
o'clock in the morning until seven at night; I've no 
time to look at pictures and read landscapes." He 
has a good bank account, and there is no decent 
reason why he should be in the shafts all day. As 
it is, his nook is a thicket of thorns, bordered with 
sticktights. I carried some of those weed seeds 
home with me, on my clothes, and my collie carried 
more, to sow in decent fields. 

There are two classes of men and women every- 
where; those who know nothing but work, and 
those who will not work. The former are as far 
as the latter from creating a true adjustment of life. 
One cannot start, and the other cannot stop. The 
home in both cases is sure to be deprived of natural 
growth. Money piled up does not assure even 
comfort. A country home must suggest something 
far beyond mere hand toil; unfortunately, most 
country homes do not. There must be consider- 
able play for the imagination to work out ideals. 
This will probably not lower the bank account at 
all, but it will take into account also the sand- 
bank, or cliffs and glens and gorges, will listen to 

[351] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



brooks that run where the plow cannot run, and 
teach us to understand thickets that only need 
brains to transform them into nooks and corners. 

One of my friends has built a storm arbor of 
fossiliferous rock. It stands in a corner of his or- 
chard, overlooking a magnificent bit of scenery, 
while it constitutes a cosy retreat from house work 
and field work. Not far away is a sun-dial, carved 
on a round boulder. And so you will find that his 
whole orchard is a quaint and nooky place where 
one may not only pick apples, but may saunter and 
rest. "Why not.'^" he says. "Money is not the 
only thing a man wants. It's about the meanest 
stuff we get. It smells of old pockets ; I don't like 
to handle it, and it sort of makes me feel cheap to 
measure myself by a roll of bills. But, you see, 
here you can feel that you are as large as nature." 
Then he has done another thing which people 
ought to do more often; he has collected all the 
water of his meadows and pastures, and run the 
pipes and drains to a hollow, where they make him 
a pond full of white and yellow lilies; and farther 
down the swale the water again throws a fountain 
jet, a spray that flies away with the wind and 
waters a lot of wild asters, cypripediums, and golden 

[352] 



sixteen] nooks and CORNERS 



rod. Around the pond are scattered native shrubs 
and other beautiful wildings. The whole thing is 
characteristic of the man — odd and not exactly 
to be imitated, but very suggestive to those who 
are conventionalized. A country home is a place 
where each one may work out himself — that is, 
his best self, the best things that he can think 
and feel. 

One of the most sterling men that I have ever 
known was Oren Root, a close friend of Asa Gray, 
and like him a keen sympathizer with nature. 
"Root's Garden" was at one time the most de- 
lightful and well-known spot in Central New York. 
It was a glen full of nooks and corners. He 
owned one of those gorgeous cuts, made ages ago 
by glaciers, with all the windings and long slopes, 
and high precipitous banks down to the beautiful 
brook; and these were given a chance to say some- 
thing fine to you. The glen was not spoiled by 
sheared evergreens, by shaved lawns, by iron dogs ; 
only there was freedom, and rest, and harmony, 
and unity introduced. You could sit on an old 
mossy log, or you could find a rustic stone seat 
hid under overhanging hemlocks. There are thou- 
sands of opportunities in New England and New 

[353] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



York, and in the Southern States, for these indi- 
vidualities to express themselves through nature. 

If you have not a glen, or a gorge, or wild forest 
edge, you will find that you have something, or can 
create something, that will be characteristic of your- 
self, and expressive of rest. Nature is all the time 
trying to help you. In New England the rocks give 
grottoes, or the overhanging grapevines create ar- 
bors. In the West I have seen along the roadsides 
gypsy encampments of wild thorn — apples and 
wild grapes. Underneath these the cows would 
hide to enjoy the dense shade. One such thorn 
tree alone is beautiful, but a corner of your pasture, 
arbored over in this way, is as good for your 
animals as sweet grass and fresh water. 

Nothing is more important about a country 
home than provision for sports and games. This 
should not be left to the ingenuity of the children 
to provide, but tennis and croquet grounds and 
athletic fields should constitute a provision in lay- 
ing out your property. Lawn tennis is easily in- 
troduced, a game that creates litheness of body, 
with an easy cooperation of mind and eye. It is 
a peculiarly instructive game, while croquet goes 
directly to teach accuracy of judgment. I have 

[ 354 ] 



sixteen] nooks and CORNERS 



seen young collegians show at first the most as- 
toundingly untrained perception of the relation of 
things, and of spaces, and of the effect of a blow, 
yet after a while develop peculiar skill and aptness 
of judgment. They get a certain practical educa- 
tion from play which they are not getting from 
mathematics, or from psychology and physics. 

Dr. Woods Hutchinson takes the position that 
play is a provision of nature, intended to bring out 
not only physical, but moral and intellectual 
strength. "Exercise," he says, "is literally the 
mother of the brain. Every play, worth the name, 
develops not merely strength, endurance, and 
sweetness, but also alertness^ quickness of response, 
coolness, balance, wariness, and judgment that is 
both sure and swift." The individuality of chil- 
dren must be taken into account. Some get play 
by working in their garden plots, while others are 
prompted by instinct to some sort of construction, 
and still others to caring for pets. While my shop 
is open I cannot induce one of my boys to join us 
at croquet. Some children are naturally marine 
biologists, preferring the frog-pond to an athletic 
field. While these are paddling in the water, others 
are naively devoted to trapezes and jumping bars. 

[355] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



The ball players must always be counted upon as 
constituting a large fraction of any group of boys, 
while many of the girls do not object to games 
of prisoner's base, or even hockey and basketball. 
In this country we shall always find a percentage 
of young folks who have not lost the instinct ex- 
pressed in "Robinson Crusoe" and "Swiss Family 
Robinson." Their happiness will not be complete 
while playing with the crowd. They must have 
something in the way of retirement, and a chance 
to climb trees and dig caves, where their imag- 
inations can revel. 

Dr. Hutchinson tells us that those children who 
are not allowed to enter school until eight or ten 
years of age, going with more physical vigor, soon 
overtake those who enter school earlier by two or 
three years. Give a child normal surroundings, and 
he is pretty sure to learn to use his brain wisely — 
very much as he learns to use his legs and arms 
wisely. If this idea is carried out as it ought to be, 
in every country homestead, the school and the 
home become nearly supplements of each other. 
I asked an old man why he kept his youth, and he 
answered, "Because I like all I do. I try to find 
the spirit of it. Bringing my boyhood along with 

[ 356 ] 



sixteen] nooks and CORNERS 



me, it is hard to kill me. Still, I am opposed to 
stopping with mere play. As I see it, there is too 
much mere play going. The girls are ashamed of 
the kitchen laboratory, and the boys are mortified 
by soiled hands. I hate the sight of a tennis- 
rigged lad whose father is over there in the field at 
work in the sunshine, and his mother bent over a 
washtub." When we organize a new home we 
should never plan to separate the family. All the 
members should work together, all should play to- 
gether, and all should rest together. That society 
is a rank falsehood which divides father and son in 
the functions of every-day life and joy. That home 
is a humbug that gives sport over to the young, and 
toil to the old, or does not make rhythm of every 
day's occupation. Your nooks, your corners, and 
your playgrounds should bring together mother and 
daughter, father and son, re-creating them into a 
daily better image of God. In this way associate 
all the functions of true living — play and work, 
rest and recuperation, creation and re-creation. 

This seems to me one of the finest things about 
country life — that the children can grow up more 
natural, with broader sympathies, and, if wisely 
directed, a higher morale of character. In this 

[357] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



home school of ours it is not a crime for a child to 
whisper, nor is it a sin to smile during eight hours 
of the twenty-four. Modern psychology teaches 
— what every common-sense father knows — that 
activity is a necessity for the young child, physi- 
cally, mentally, and morally ; that the three lines of 
growth are tied up together, and in the normal 
child go hand- in-hand, reacting upon one another; 
that "the young child is continually reaching out 
through his senses to lay hold upon everything 
about him, to test it, to know about it, to see what 
its relations to himself may be, to see if he can use 
it and make something for himself out of it." 
The influence of the country upon our schools, 
to broaden out their schedule of work, must be 
supplemented by a broad home life. We are not 
very far from the days of school-gardens, when 
the country school will be in nothing unlike the 
country home, developing the child along the same 
lines of thought and industry. 

But I am taking too much thought of the chil- 
dren. The country must reform in another direc- 
tion, to take care of its mothers. We have a class 
of people to whom the house is practically a prison. 
Women are not supposed to have equal rights 

[ 358 ] 



sixteen] nooks and CORNERS 



with men out of doors. This is not a natural sub- 
division of life and labor. Woman's duty, and 
health, and fitness for motherhood, depend upon 
fresh air and out-of-door exercise. Charles Kings- 
ley once said to me, "Your women, sir, seem to me 
the weak part of American development. They 
cannot walk as English women walk, nor can they 
ride, except tucked up in a carriage, with a driver 
to care for them. Such women will deteriorate, 
and with such mothers American character will 
degenerate. I like the energy of your people, but 
why have they shut up their wives and daughters ? 
An English woman makes nothing of a five-mile 
walk before breakfast, and can easily take in ten 
or fifteen. She is stout in limb and robust in 
frame, sound in digestion, and a good bearer of 
healthy children. Your women are blanched and 
pretty, but they are also delicate — and there seems 
to be a national pride in that direction. It will tell 
more and more in future generations." During 
the conversation his daughter burst into the room, 
full of enthusiasm over a twelve-mile walk into the 
country. She was preparing for a horseback ride 
later in the day. The tide countryward is to be 
welcomed, because sensible women will learn to get 

[359] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



the best of the results. There is really no more rea- 
son why a woman should not ride a reaper than why 
she should be debarred from running a lawn-mower. 
Every country woman should know how to harness 
a horse, to drive skilfully, and then to care for her 
pet when he brings her home to the stable. 

Fortunately, there is a collateral drift toward an 
interchange of employments. Men are taking up 
house work quite as rapidly as women are going 
into professions and into business occupations. It 
is not only the woman's right to engage more gen- 
erally in out-door work, but her rights include a 
part in the recreations and the games. A woman's 
sewing balcony is possible with many country 
homes. It is healthful, restful, and stimulating. 
My wife's balcony opens from the chamber by 
double doors, and is furnished with a hammock as 
well as table and chairs. One of my live arbors also 
is the private room of the mother of the fold, 
where she can do her private writing as well as 
reading, and where, perhaps, she may instruct her 
children. You suggest that the children are all at 
school ? In a wisely-ordered country home a large 
share of right education must be supervised by the 
mother and father. These acres of ours are 

[ 360 ] 



sixteen] nooks and CORNERS 



packed with object lessons and truths that make 
up character. 

A plenty of nooks and corners, making good use 
of nature's quiet places, indicate the great truth 
that the most of one's living processes must be car- 
ried on out of doors, and that a house, at the best, 
is only a place of retreat — possibly a confinement. 
A healthy person longs for fresh air and sunshine, 
and companionship with all the things that whisper 
and sing. The old Saxon word for dwelling is 
stopping-place, and that for house is hiding-place. 
Neither of these words originally implied that a 
house was intended for anything more than a shel- 
ter. We make too much of indoors altogether. 
We have got into habits of conforming to house 
regulations which entirely dominate. Health is 
not possible in the shade of fashion. We have too 
many curtains to shut out the sunlight, and our fate 
is tied up with infinite bric-a-brac. House dust is 
the worst of poisons. Try a bit of it in a spectro- 
scope, and you will get lines that will astound you. 
House air, with a hot-air furnace, is charged with 
carbon dioxides. The heat in winter is irrational 
and debilitating; in summer our only hope is to let 
in as much as possible of out of doors. If your lot 

[361] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



is nine acres, we ought to be able to find you all 
over those acres. It should all of it be your resi- 
dence. The gardens should suggest your idiosyn- 
crasies, and the hedges and the hiding-places 
should be your features. 

Dr. Edward Everett used to say, when he took his 
hat, " I am going in for a walk." When he stepped 
back indoors, he called it going out of his house — 
for he reckoned his real house to be his garden, 
his orchard, and the whole world at large. Really 
the most foreign place to our living processes is in- 
doors. President Hall has it that " health is whole- 
ness, or holiness, in its highest aspect." He holds 
that every room of ours should have, first of all, the 
maximum of light and sunshine, and that we should 
live the larger part of our lives entirely apart from 
the house. Get out of bed early in the morning, 
and bathe in the rising sun's rays. One morning 
hour is worth two at midday and four at night. 
The air is fuller of ozone, and the system is in a 
better condition to receive and absorb it. He tells 
us that the conditions for good health are these: 
"Pure air, sunshine, good companionship, proper 
nutrition, regular habits, suitable subjects of 
thought, and good tools." 

[ 36iiJ ] 



sixteen] nooks and CORNERS 



Living arbors are, in my opinion, of great im- 
portance on a country place, and they are easily 
constructed. They can be grown in just about the 
time we are getting good-sized trees, from stock 
that we first transplanted. They should at first 
consist of a circle — preferably of arbor-vitse — 
say twenty feet across. Trim the young trees as 
they grow, so that the outside of the circle shall rise 
gradually with a conical outline, while the inner 
limbs are allowed by degrees to reach together over- 
hiead. These will, in due time, interlace and make 
a solid roof. This ought to be well accomplished 
inside of ten years, but it will be twenty years be- 
fore the arbor is complete, and it will grow in 
strength for fifty or seventy-five years. After the 
trees are fifteen feet high, and the limbs well inter- 
laced, no further trimming is necessary. A living 
arbor of this kind is a living house, open to the pur- 
est air, yet cutting off the heat of midday. It will 
furnish a delightful retreat for those who need to be 
left entirely alone. They need not be, however, 
entirely unsocial. Such an arbor constitutes a cap- 
ital place for rustic seats — the Old Hickory chairs 
are just in place, five or six of them, and in the 
center an Old Hickory table, or one that you have 

[363] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



made yourself. A home-made table is one of the 
easiest things to prepare. Get an old, rejected mill- 
stone, and set it on boulders. In the hole through 
the middle fix a large vase, to hold flowers; or, if 
you will, saw a section of a big tree that is three feet 
in diameter, and make the section three feet high. 
Let the bark cling to such a table, and lest it cleave 
off, drive in a few nails. I am using sections of 
smaller trees for seats, and similar sections serve 
admirably for seats elsewhere, as, for instance, about 
your croquet ground, or in sheltered nooks behind 
the edges. I have three living arbors, and con- 
sider them delightful features of my homestead be- 
cause they are so entirely natural looking, like large, 
solid trees. I find that the birds approve of these 
dense evergreen growths as much as I do, and they 
nest overhead, and sing, without being disturbed 
by their neighbors in the hammocks below. 

Concerning arbors of wood I say little ; and about 
all those other structures put up by carpenters, the 
less that is said the better. They are out of place, 
and out of taste, unless it be to hold up vines. 1 
have seen rustic work carried clear out of natural 
proportions, and made fantastic. The most ar- 
tificial and disagreeable country place I ever saw 

[364] 



sixteen] nooks and CORNERS 



was made up of arbors, rockeries, grottoes, ever- 
greens sheared into hens, fountains where spouting 
geese vied with negroes grinning in the pools, and 
stone dogs in the grass. Such things are abhorrent 
to nature, and they do not constitute a home. I 
think the people catch the spirit of this sort of work 
from some of our public parks. If a trellis of wood 
or wire is needed, let it be strong and simple, and 
demonstrate its fitness by its utility. I have seen a 
great many wooden arbors about the country, as I 
have seen many observatories on the tops of houses, 
but I rarely ever saw anybody inside one of them. 
They are artificial and superfluous as a rule — not 
always. 

There are, however, some people who cannot 
live out of doors. So far as I can see, they have 
nothing out there to live for, or to live with. In- 
doors they have a lot of furniture that they sym- 
pathize with, and they make up the rest with other 
conventionalisms. Half our country houses might 
as well be in Sahara, so far as trees, flowers, birds, 
brooks, hedges, nooks and common sense are con- 
cerned. Birds rarely go near such houses. A few 
trees are set out for a show — a row of something 
on exhibition; birds never nest in such things. 

[365] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



Then an agent comes along, and sells four white, 
cut-leaved, weeping birches, and these are set out 
in another exhibition row ; but birds never nest in 
them. Then the folks bethink themselves of a 
row of evergreens, which they keep trimmed into 
solid cones, such as a good mechanic might turn 
out of wood and paint green and set in rows across 
the lawn. Finally, two weeping willows are set in 
front of the house, expressive of nature's grief over 
such ludicrous notions of the beautiful. The only 
salvation of such a place is that, by and by, neglect 
will kill out four-fifths of the trees, and the rest, 
being left out of line, make a tolerable lawn. Learn, 
first of all, that nature abhors conventionalism; 
never repeats herself; does not inquire what folks 
will say; gets in love with beauty and truth, and 
then plants her nooks and corners for no other 
reason in the world than that she loves the beauti- 
ful and the true. Those who have not been born 
again to see the world about them, who really have 
no acquaintances among the trees, no friends 
among the birds, constitute a class by themselves. 
I will not say that they are degenerate, but they 
certainly are incapacitated for comprehending 
Out of Doors. 

[366] 



sixteen] nooks and CORNERS 



I have spoken plainly, but none too strongly, 
about the average house. It is the ugliest thing in 
a country landscape. It has rarely a line of beauty 
or of peace, or a suggestion of rest, inside or out- 
side of it. It is just a barn for human folk. It is 
not quite as healthy as the animal barn, and not 
generally as pretty. Your house should be a part 
of the property — that is, of all the acres that you 
occupy. Your residence should be the whole of 
your property. This sort of home we shall have by 
and by. What I mean to say is that we must learn 
to get out of doors, and stay out most of the time — 
to work outside, play outside, eat outside, sleep out- 
side. Form your sympathies with nature ; talk gar- 
den, think flower and fruit; study bugs and butter- 
flies; then lie down on the sweet sod, under your 
blossoming apple trees, and let your soul sing : " Our 
Father, Who art in the Heavens ! and in the apple 
blossoms! and in the roses, too! Thy name be 
hallowed!" 



[367] 



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 
CONCLUSION 



W ELL, here we are in the country ! Our house is 
built, our garden is planted, our orchard is already 
bearing — Sweet Boughs and Northern Spys. We 
are milking our own cow, and thinking of raising 
another — a beautiful, soft-eyed Jersey that was 
born last April. We have carried out a lot of no- 
tions in the way of cesspools, compost piles, and 
drainage. There is a driven well, 60 feet deep in- 
to the solid rock, and it cost only eighty-eight dol- 
lars, pump and all. The fun of it is that there is 
always something to do. We mean to make each 
year notable, not only for crops, but for some spe- 
cific advance. We are trying to work play and play 
work, although the hot sun or pounding rain 
sometimes upsets us. The bugs have been here, 
and we have not always won the fight. The birds 
and the bees have been counted into the family, 
and the toads as well ; we are all cooperating. 



CONCLUSION 



The amount of joy to be gotten out of a few acres, 
run in the name of mutual aid and good- will, is 
amazing. Birds sing in concert, and the cows have 
ways of expressing joyous good-will. Bossy rubs 
her head against your arm, and asks you to scratch 
her neck. The fowls jump on your shoulders and 
eat from your hand. Fear is banished. The strug- 
gle for existence passes largely into a generous 
cooperation for the common good. Chirping 
birds hop about your door, and catbirds perch 
near your balcony to talk noble things in bird lan- 
guage. Guns are banished. The spirit of killing 
becomes abhorrent. Life grows sacred. 

The catching power of pure horticulture is im- 
mense. One well-designed home sets the fashion, 
until the town becomes notable for beauty. Un- 
fortunately, one gaudy architectural display is 
liable to be mistaken for a true home, and copied as 
a model, until a whole community is artificialized. 
This book has expressed no sympathy with costly 
houses. A home, in any of its evolutions, should 
never express more of expense than of character. 
The thought of money value should be entirely ab- 
sent when you observe a human residence as when 
you observe a well-dressed man or woman. A 

[369] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



complete country home is never obtrusive, but, like 
the trees and the lawns and the hedges, is a part of 
the place. 

This home of ours is associated with privileges 
that even the city could not indulge fifty years ago. 
It has advantages peculiar to the country, but also 
those that have been peculiar to the city. Half a 
century ago the conditions of life were such that 
pneumonia, typhoid fever, and a whole gamut of 
similar ills were looked upon as inevitable accesso- 
ries of life — if not orderings of Providence. As 
late as 1850 machinery was just beginning to lift 
the farmer from his knees — where he had worked 
with hook to reap his grain — to ride upon har- 
vesters, and do in a single day the work of twenty 
men. He was old at forty, and worn out at fifty; 
to-day he is erect and stalwart at eighty. A strike 
in the coal field would not then have affected him, 
for he knew nothing about coal as fuel. 

In our gardens and orchards we are forming a 
collection of the best achievements of the whole 
temperate zone, vegetables and fruits that mark the 
progress of science all along down through the cen- 
turies. What is it that makes the farmer's every- 
day meal ? It is coffee from Arabia, sugar from 

[370] 



SEVENTEEN] CONCLUSION 



Cuba, flour from Dakota — in fact, the whole 
world is contributing to his table. On his lawns 
we find alfalfa from Turkestan; in his gardens 
are melons from Syria — but better than all are 
the achievements of cross-pollenization. Science is 
showing us the value also of the most despised 
weeds and neglected products of field and forest. 
The corn stalk and cotton seed have become nearly 
as important as corn and cotton themselves. A 
noted chemist says, "I believe there is not a by- 
product, or a residuum, or a weed in our fields that 
will not be found to be of value to human beings." 
The Russian thistle, which at first so alarmed our 
Western farmers, is now sown on their ranches as a 
superior food for cattle and horses. Even marsh 
mud promises to become an excellent fuel. Among 
our farmers are such wizards as Burbank, Wilder, 
and Munson — creators and cooperators with 
nature in producing flowers and fruits and vege- 
tables far superior to those which we inherited. 

The reaction to country life is natural and neces- 
sary. There is little danger of a turn of the tide. 
A lawyer and his wife have become my neighbors. 
She is the refined daughter of a notable minister, 
all of whose youth had been spent in the city. I 

[371] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



asked her if she would be willing to go back to her 
former method of life. " Not on any account what- 
ever! Why, just think of it! Not one dollar for 
rent ! We own our house — built it ourselves — 
put our own notions into it. We are no longer eat- 
ing and sleeping in other folks' houses. Then we 
have our own eggs, chickens, and fruit. Why, 
down in that cellar are twenty-four barrels of our 
own apples — Northern Spys, Greenings, Gilli- 
flowers, Spitzenburgs, and we never paid a cent for 
them. And there are splendid fresh vegetables all 
summer long — peas, potatoes, and beans and cab- 
bages, and bushels of them for winter. Dear me! 
the idea of ever again going around the corner to 
buy a half-peck of peas! Miserable, half-dried 
things! But we didn't know any better then; we 
do now. Then there are little Joe and Ned! It 
would be just positive cruelty to shut them up in 
city life — houses and streets ! But here they go it all 
the day long, playing, helping, romping, happy 
and healthy, and out of bad influences. See 
there; just look in there!" I saw a snug little 
room, dark but for a narrow window. "Do you 
shut them in there when they are bad.^" I said. 
"What a question! No, sir. Just look again!" 

[ 372 ] 



SEVENTEEN] CONCLUSION 



Sure enough ; the wall on one side held shelves liter- 
ally full of tumblers of jellies and jars of preserved 
fruits. "All my own putting up, out of our own 
garden ! Do you hear that ? Nobody else's stuff 
— except the pineapple and orange." The op- 
posite shelves were filled with Hubbard squashes 
and golden pumpkins. At one end hung bunches of 
herbs. It was clear that my friend was in love with 
the country. "Oh, yes," she said, "the snow and 
cold weather can't be kept out of the country, nor 
out of the city, either ; but a country house can be 
made so comfortable that we rather enjoy a storm. 
There is just one drawback, that of cleaning roads; 
but that is managed by the pathmaster mostly." 

The reaction to country life affects Europe nearly 
as much as the United States. Denmark is con- 
spicuous for having created a reverse current of 
population. She has within a few years reclaimed 
two thousand square miles of previously waste 
land, and with this movement she is increasing her 
exports with great rapidity. Danish farmers and 
other land-owners have formed cooperative soci- 
eties, in order the more perfectly to handle produce 
and control foreign markets. The country folk 
have four hundred banks for the deposit of small 

[373] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



savings. The Danish University and its students 
have instituted free lectures, with evening lectures, 
all over the country — besides promoting popular 
amusements, distributing cheap literature, and 
opening oflBces for free legal advice. Clubs are 
formed in music, gymnastics, and cycling, and 
there are debates conducted for the advantage of 
the rural population. In all ways country life has 
become exceedingly attractive. Very much remains 
for our own government to learn from Denmark, 
especially in the way of establishing Postal Savings 
Banks in our villages. 

By going to the country we are not only helping 
ourselves, but are aiding the solution of the great 
social problem, how to make man out of the mass, 
and something better than masses out of men. 
Nearly one million a year from Europe's herded 
population comes to our shores for citizenship. All 
but four per cent, drop into tenerrients. The social 
salvation of America rests with the country. There 
is land enough for a population of five hundred 
millions. The unimproved lands of the Northwest 
constitute about fifty per cent, of the area. Maine 
has eighty-eight per cent, of her land still unim- 
proved, Pennsylvania, fifty-five per cent., while 

[374] 



SEVENTEEN] CONCLUSION 



even the State of New York has under tillage less 
than one-half of its acres. 

It was the fashion of forty years ago for pro- 
gressive economists to discuss a reform village, 
built in squares, one house on each corner, and a 
community boarding-hall and kitchen in the center 
of each square. Some experiments were made 
along such lines, but they fell to pieces over the 
table question. It is not easy for four families to 
agree on a menu three times a day, and on the 
qualities of the cooking. As a rule, every woman 
must be mistress of her own kitchen. 

A more satisfactory cooperation lays out a few 
acres in garden form, with houses occupying advan- 
tageous points. This park home should have a 
single tidy barn, where the few families interested 
may have a cow, a horse, and hens, owned in com- 
mon. In charge of such a place, a man, or possi- 
bly a family, can be hired by the commune. In 
this case each family owns and controls its own 
house, orchard, and garden, while the drives and 
the park and the driven well and the barn are kept 
by common funds. By such a system the cost of 
hired help may be greatly reduced, and the servant- 
girl question almost, if not entirely, solved. 

[375] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



I see no reason why adjacent farms shall not 
build their houses within calling distance of one 
another. This is all the more easy now that ten to 
twenty acres is held to be enough for good tillage. 
What can be done with two farmhouses can be 
done with three or four forming a group of houses 
near adjacent corners. This intimacy would re- 
quire good neighbors, but it would tend to develop 
neighborliness. It would cultivate a rivalry in the 
way of well-kept lawns and orchards, and create a 
comparison of methods and results. A letter, de- 
scribing something of this kind, says, "When sud- 
den illness occurs, somebody is near by to help. Of 
course we can quarrel more easily, but the quarrel 
is not likely to be as lasting as if we lived farther 
apart." This whole question of cooperation in 
country life is still an unfinished problem. Co- 
operation in the way of building, harvesting, and 
domestic industries is taking a new and broader 
sweep. Cooperative marketing will follow co- 
operative production. This will require a more 
accurate system of grading our products, and will 
develop a higher degree of economic education. 
Individualism cannot be satisfied to end with it- 
self. Emerson says, "Your millennium is in your 

[376] 



seventeen] CONCLtJSION 



furrows, and you are sowing the seed which to- 
morrow will give your social harvest." 

I said at the outset that this book was not for 
colonists, yet I cannot overlook the fact that the 
movement countryward is taking on some features 
that look toward getting out of the city in a lump. 
There are not a few persons who lack the initiative 
and can only move in platoons. The Salvation 
Army deals with this class of people, and does it 
successfully. Their farm colonies, moving whole 
families together, are working well. The National 
Government is discussing the question of assisting 
this movement by adequate appropriations. 

Mechanics of small means, and clerks with 
meager salaries, apprentices whose income only 
permits them to live in dreadful boarding-houses — 
these will do well to club together and buy coun- 
try places near trolley lines. This is sometimes 
feasible by giving to a married man the manage- 
ment of the house and the land. Here can be had 
wholesome food, fresh air, rational exercise, and 
delightful lodgment. I imagine that we shall see 
a great increase of this sort of . club life in the 
country. 

Cooperation is not a new idea; for our fathers 

[377] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



raised their house frames, husked their corn, and 
reaped their harvests by united effort, while the 
women knitted and spun and wove the family cloth- 
ing and carpets. The state was called the Com- 
monwealth, and the town meeting still remains 
as a recognition of our necessary common weal 
— and our possible common woe. As we look 
ahead we shall understand that individualism must 
increase its efforts for united work. The new 
country life will teach us to link our energies as 
never before. The middleman will become of 
less importance. Postal Savings Banks will gather 
the earnings of the poorer classes, and make them 
small capitalists. By going into the country we 
are not to be scattered and alienated, but to be 
brought into an alliance that is impossible in the 
herded city. 

By these steps we are coming into an era of co- 
operation in country schools — a cooperation that 
is being worked out by events as much as by logic. 
Small district schools by the wayside are giving way 
to town schools, with splendid sanitation and bet- 
ter teachers — these in turn becoming centers of 
moral and intellectual life. It is not at all unlikely 
that the restoration of the town church will be in 

[ 378 ] 



seventeen] conclusion 



connection with the school building. The time is 
coming when all these town schools will be set in 
the middle of one or more acres, and education will 
be half a day with books indoors, and half a day 
with things out of doors. The ideal school ac- 
quires knowledge in the morning, and applies it in 
the afternoon. In this way children leave school 
with a taste for the land and land culture. They 
will not conceive the end of education to be memo- 
rizing the contents of books. The garden school of 
the future will abolish the prison houses, where 
children are shut up for eight or nine hours each 
day, during their most ebullient years, forbidden 
to stir or communicate. 

The country is the children's natural home. The 
winds rock their cradles, and in these days, if there 
be stuff at all in the boy, he can get his living 
chance — in the country. We must discard those 
books that tell the stories of lads who, by extra 
shrewdness, escape the narrowness and pinched- 
ness of the farm to become merchants, and so get 
away from growing apples and wheat to measuring 
calico. No life in the world is broader, freer, or 
fuller than life on the land. Farming has had its 
bad day, but that is over with, and let us hear no 

[379] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



more about it. Children take naturally to country 
life, and not to street life, unless driven to it. 

The glory of country life is that every leaf and 
each twig, and the pebbles in the brook, are all ob- 
ject lessons. United States Commissioner of Edu- 
cation W. T. Harris says, "The school should be 
only a supplement of the home." But now you 
find that your whole property — not the house 
only, but the garden and the orchard and the corn 
field, are all parts of an educational plant; and your 
children are born into it, to find out what they can 
of its wonders. Some years ago a French author 
wrote a book called "The Population of a Pear 
Tree." It is wonderful how many tribes and na- 
tions occupy your acres. A study of these turns 
labor into pleasure, and makes country life noth- 
ing less than going to a great university. Home 
studies are all in English, and it needs no Oxford 
gown for graduation day. In this school no one 
takes a degree until he dies ; for this sort of educa- 
tion never ends. 

Professor Search, in his "Ideal School," says, 
"Every child is a born naturalist." His eyes are, 
by nature, open to the glories of the stars, the beau- 
ty of the flowers, and the mystery of life. William 

[ 380 ] 



v-^ 



L-'fc ji ^isLii 




seventeen] conclusion 



J. Long says, "The only book to read out of is the 
book of nature herself.'* Nature, after all, is our 
great educator; books are only translations of what 
is written on the leaves of the big book. 

Professor Whitman, so well known as Director 
of the Marine Biological School, at Woods HoU, 
says that the laboratory has gone as far as it can 
in its research into the problems of life; that we 
must now reach out farther and create " biological 
farms." His proposed farm would consist of fields 
and woods and ponds and gardens and orchards 
and brooks — where he could investigate what 
nature has done and is doing at the present mo- 
ment. There is no reason why every country 
home in the land should not be a biological farm 
— a school for the study of life. A country home 
that does not widen the horizon of thought and 
power is a failure. Asa Gray used to speak of the 
trees that filled the Oriskany valley, before his 
residence in boyhood, as his '* professors." The 
college that he attended was the great amphi- 
theater, circled with orchard-covered hills, and 
everywhere man and nature in harmony. 

The best teacher in the country is the one who 
studies with the child ; not one who imparts from a 

[381] 



THE COUNTRY HOME [chapter 



cold-storage of facts. In this way a parent is often 
the very best possible teacher — because compan- 
ion. I would not have lost the lessons learned 
from my father, as together we went about the 
fields, for all that I gathered at academies and col- 
leges. Froebel says, "Let parents become chil- 
dren with children, and all together go to school to 
Mother Nature." Give every boy and girl such 
books as "Hodge's Nature Study and Life," and 
"Comstock's Insect Life," and keep them well 
supplied with the Bulletins from experiment 
stations. Be sure that your laboratory is furnished 
with a good microscope and other appliances 
for accurate investigation. With your boys and 
girls not only grow crops, but test, examine, inves- 
tigate, and compare. Above all, let every child be 
educated to understand that there is no glory supe- 
rior to that of creating a better cereal or fruit, and 
in general terms carrying creation forward toward 
perfection. This glorifies a country home as noth- 
ing else can — to make it, and all about it, face the 
future, to hold it in trust for those coming gen- 
erations which shall inherit, not only its present 
worth, but that increment of betterment which we 
have been able to bring about. 

[ 382 ] 



SEVENTEEN] CONCLUSION 



I have come to the last words of my book, and I 
am very sorry that I must say to you Good-by. It 
is not as an author, but as a friend. It is with real 
regret — there is so much to learn and to talk about 
in these new homes of ours that one never gets to 
an end. But that is the glory of it. The seasons 
are not a dead round of reiterated buying and 
selling, but each year unfolds a marvelous display 
of new ideas. All hail the hillsides, with their 
breezes! All hail the valleys, with their brooks! 
They open their arms to new homes, better 
thoughts, nobler aspirations, with wiser culture 
of both the land and the land-holder. 

THE END 



THE MoCLURE PRESS, NEW YORK 



